What Lies Beneath
by Laine3112
Summary: The murder of a young girl sets Tony on a downward spiral. Determined to find retribution, can Gibbs stop him before he loses his career or his life. PLEASE READ WARNING IN AUTHORS NOTE. Crime/Drama/Angst/Friendship
1. Chapter 1

**WHAT LIES BENEATH**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N:- **This story is quite different from my last two that were lighter and more humorous. It explores a darker, edgier side of Tony that we glimpsed in episodes Bury Your Dead, Internal Affairs, Judgment Day 2 and Cloak and how the team rallies to support him through an extremely difficult period. The story is long and, due to the subject, quite intense in places. Jenny Shepard is featured as the Director. Contains a tiny spoiler for the episode, Probie.

**WARNING:- The story begins with the murder of a child and revolves around the subsequent investigation. Please do not read if you feel this will upset or distress you in any way.**

**Oo00oO**

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was bone-tired. He and his senior field agent, Tony DiNozzo had spent every day for the previous three weeks, as lead witnesses in a high profile narcotics trial against drug lord, Luca Corelli.

Corelli had been using Navy personnel to distribute illicit designer drugs all over the country. NCIS had received a tip off and Gibbs' Major Case Response team had launched a successful operation, resulting in Corelli's arrest. Gibbs, as lead agent had coordinated and supervised the logistics of the operation and support teams. DiNozzo had been the undercover operative who had infiltrated Corelli's organization and secured the evidence. Corelli's high-priced attorneys had taken every opportunity to refute and discredit the agents' testimonies. A guilty verdict was returned but it had been an exhausting and gruelling process.

Gibbs and DiNozzo had rejoined their team and had been back on rotation for only a day when they were assigned a kidnapping case. They had been working around the clock, yet they were no closer to finding the missing girl. Rebecca Barnes had now been missing for 53 hours. Gibbs knew that ransom was not the motive here. A ransom demand would have been made long before now.

Rebecca was eight-years old and the only child of Navy Commander Peter Barnes and his wife Helen. Commander Barnes had been a JAG officer for the last 15 years and was a prosecuting attorney with an impressive conviction record. He was also one of Tony DiNozzo's best friends.

Becky's disappearance had been devastating for Tony. Gibbs had almost removed him from the case, thinking he may be too personally involved. However, Tony knew the family, he knew the child and he was a hell of an investigator. If Gibbs could keep him focused and not too distracted by his emotions, Tony could be the one to break the case.

Gibbs took a long draught from his coffee cup, forgetting he had finished it some time ago. He threw the Styrofoam cup into the trash and looked around the bullpen in the muted light. Ziva and McGee were both asleep at their desks, their first break in 48 hours. Gibbs let them rest knowing they would both be hard at it again in an hour or two. Then he looked with concern at the empty desk of his senior field agent. _'He should be back by now,' _he thought anxiously.

Earlier, that afternoon, McGee had performed an extensive computer search of the Commander's history as a prosecutor. He compiled a list of names of over 300 people successfully prosecuted and convicted during the Commander's fifteen-year career with JAG.

Tony left the office around 1600, to review the list with the Commander. They were specifically looking for anyone who may have threatened him or his family and may have recently been released from prison. Gibbs had wanted to accompany him but had been called to a meeting with Rear Admiral Dennis Holmes, Chief Administrator of the Washington JAG office. Tony was instructed to phone him immediately if the list provided any leads. That was over four hours ago. Gibbs chest tightened.

Reaching the end of his patience, Gibbs grabbed his cell, intending to call Tony. Before he could dial, the cell rang. He answered it with the usual "Gibbs."

"Boss, it's me," said the hurried and whispered reply.

"DiNozzo?? Where the hell are you??"

"I got a lead from a friend at Metro PD. Someone heard a child crying in a vacant warehouse. It could be Becky," Tony explained. "Boss, I think I've found them. I need back-up."

"Tell me where you are," he demanded startling Ziva and McGee awake with the urgency in his voice.

"Piermont Industrial Estate, Warehouse 10B, it's deserted but the caller said….."

"DiNozzo??" Gibbs' felt his pulse rate increase. "Tony!! Answer me!!"

"Boss, she's here. Becky. I can hear her!!" Tony whispered breathlessly.

Gibbs opened his desk draw and removed his weapon.

"Tony, we're coming. We'll be there as fast as we can. Don't move!!" he ordered.

"She's crying. I can't wait…I'm sorry, Boss…I'm going in."

The sound of a child's terrified scream was the last thing Gibbs heard before the phone connection was cut.

"DiNozzo!!" Gibbs yelled to dead air.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs, Ziva and McGee rushed from the building to their car. He briefed the younger agents on where Tony was and what he'd said. He then instructed McGee to contact the EMTs in case the child was hurt and told Ziva to contact Ducky as well. If the child had been hurt and Tony got his hands on her assailant, Ducky's ME skills would definitely be required.

At that time of night, Gibbs made the 45-minute journey in 25, Ziva and McGee, hanging on for dear life. The estate had been closed down for over a year, the factories and warehouses deserted. The area had been fenced off to the public, and there was a gatehouse at the driveway entrance where a rather perplexed looking security guard watched as they sped past without even slowing.

Gibbs parked the car next to Tony's, far enough away from the warehouse that their arrival would not be heard, but still within sight of the building. They alighted from the car, slipping into their bullet proofed vests and NCIS jackets. They checked their weapons; their spare clips and secured their com-links and earwigs.

Seemingly without any communication, Ziva and McGee ran to opposite sides of Warehouse 10B to check the perimeter of the building. Both reported no sound and no movement in a singular word.

"Clear".

Confirming there was only one way to enter or exit the building, they swiftly made their way back to Gibbs at the entrance. There was no sign of Tony or the little girl. Gibbs' gut twisted. He had a bad feeling as he tried the door and found it to be open. Silently, they entered the building, stopping briefly to allow their eyes to adjust to the darkness. McGee located the power board, flicked a few switches and the warehouse flooded with muted light.

The warehouse was, by and large, one expansive room with two small offices at the entrance and another two supply rooms at the far end of the building. Having secured the front offices, Gibbs, Ziva and McGee stepped into the large, empty storage area, scanning the vacant expanse with keen eyes, their Sig Sauers ever ready.

If Tony and Becky were here, they had to be in one of the far rooms. They crossed the distance to the rooms without incident and their stomachs knotted as they saw Tony's Sig lying on the floor near a small pool of blood and his cell smashed beyond repair. They cleared the first room and cautiously entered the second room - audibly gasping at the gruesome sight.

Tony was seated with his back against the wall, his legs outstretched in front of him. His eyes were closed, his head hung so that his chin touched his chest. Blood from a head wound, caked in his hair and flowed freely down his pale face and his hands and shirt were covered in blood. In his arms, he cradled the body of Rebecca Barnes, her eyes gazing lifelessly at Tony's still form.

"Oh my God" muttered McGee quietly.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00o—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Gibbs quickly made his way to Tony, crouching in front of his prone agent. He fought to suppress his rising fear as he placed his fingers to Tony's neck in search of his pulse. After an agonizingly long minute, he spoke.

"I've got a pulse!" he turned to McGee. "Get Ducky and the EMTs in here NOW!" he barked.

"They've just arrived, Boss," McGee replied, "I'll go lead them in"

"I'll get the gear and call a back-up team to help process the scene," Ziva stated, anticipating Gibbs' next instruction.

Gibbs gently tapped Tony's cheek, trying to rouse the younger man.

"Tony?" he called softly. No response.

A few moments later, Ducky arrived and stood beside Gibbs. It was evident that Becky had been brutally murdered. He looked at Tony's still body.

"Good Lord, Jethro," he said, "Is he…"

"He's alive, Duck!" Gibbs advised, reluctantly moving away from Tony to allow the ME closer. "Pulse is slow and steady. He has a bad head wound but I don't know if the rest of the blood is his."

Ducky looked at the body of the young girl in Tony's arms and with infinite care, he closed her eyes gently before turning his attention to Tony. One of the EMT officers handed him a large gauze pad and he placed it over Tony's still bleeding scalp wound.

"Jethro, put some pressure on this, will you?" Ducky asked. Gibbs obliged while Ducky continued his examination.

"I don't think this blood belongs to Anthony," Ducky said, checking Tony's arms, chest and abdomen for wounds. "I think it belongs to the dear child. I'll know more when we move her."

The need to ensure that Tony had not suffered any other serious or potentially life-threatening injury, overrode the usual SOP of not disturbing the crime scene. As Ducky and Jimmy Palmer moved to lift Becky's body from Tony's limp grasp, Tony emitted a low groan. He winced in pain from the pressure being applied to his head wound.

With his eyes still tightly closed, he felt the still warm pressure pinning his legs and lower abdomen and fought to remember what it could be. His eyes sprung open suddenly as the terrifying memory returned and he pulled Becky's lifeless form to his body in a protective embrace. Tony's mind focused only on Becky - he had to get her to safety.

The light sent shards of white-hot pain into his brain. He was overcome with nausea and dizziness and battled to keep the bile in his throat from spilling out. He blinked his eyes rapidly; trying unsuccessfully to clear his vision but could only distinguish light and dark blurry shapes. He could hear muffled voices and in a total panic he struggled against the strong arms trying to hold him still and trying to remove Becky from his grasp.

Then suddenly, from the muffled voices, one rose above the rest, penetrating the distress and disorientation of Tony's mind. The voice of someone he trusted like no other – Gibbs. He immediately looked in that direction, still unable to clearly focus.

"Boss?" he said weakly.

"Take it easy, Tony, we've got ya," Gibbs said gently. "Ducky and the EMTs are here. We need to get you checked out."

His eyes were still unfocussed and rolling slightly from the concussion. Tony pleaded with Gibbs.

"Boss, take Becky first. She's badly hurt. I…I can't stop the bleeding!!"

Gibbs and Ducky exchanged a look of dread.

'_Oh God'_ Gibbs thought. _'He thinks Becky's still alive.'_

"Please help her, Ducky!" Tony gasped.

Ducky placed his hand on Tony's shoulder to calm him. "I'm so sorry, Anthony," he said in a firm but gentle voice. "Rebecca is dead. I know you did all you could to help her but she was very badly injured. You need to let her go now so I can take the child to NCIS."

Tony's eyes clouded in confusion. "No, Ducky," he said, tightening his embrace around Becky's body. "She's not dead. She…she's still warm…I can feel her warmth. _Please help her, Ducky!!"_

"Anthony, listen to me," he said slowly and patiently. "Rebecca is still warm because this happened not more than 30 minutes ago. Your own body heat has helped to keep her warm. You need to understand, that the poor child has passed."

Tony instinctively began rocking his body back and forth, desperately trying to comfort the child in his arms and ignoring the nausea the movement caused him. He couldn't bring himself to accept that this pretty little girl, this innocent child, was dead.

'_It has to be a mistake_' he thought. _'She's only eight years old!'_

"No..no, Ducky," he said quietly. "I have to take her home. I promised her parents I'd find her. I promised!"

Ducky looked at Gibbs with a silent plea for help in his eyes.

Gibbs nodded to an EMT officer to take his place applying pressure to the bandage on Tony's head wound. Then he turned Tony's face to his. He waited while Tony's glassy, unfocussed eyes met his gaze before continuing in a firm voice.

"Tony, Becky is gone. You have to let Ducky take her now. She'll be safe with Ducky. You need to let her go."

Tony's vision cleared a little and he saw the sorrow filled facial expressions of the two men leaning over him. Slowly, he began to accept the devastating reality. Tony closed his eyes and placed a kiss on Becky's forehead before allowing Ducky to take her from his arms. Jimmy Palmer, who had been silently standing to the side, moved in to assist.

Ducky gave Tony's leg a comforting squeeze. "We'll take very good care of her, my boy. You have my word," he said solemnly.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony sat in a trance-like state; never shifting his slowly improving vision from Ducky as he and Palmer carefully placed the body of the small girl into the body bag. He winced and closed his eyes as the zipper was fastened, battling a myriad of emotions as the little girl was taken to the coroner's truck.

Ducky walked back to crouch in front of Tony.

"Now, my boy," he said. "Let me take a good look at you."

Tony nodded, silently complying with the doctor's request and far too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to argue.

Ducky quickly checked Tony's lower body and legs for wounds or injuries and found none. Except for the blood from his head wound, the rest had belonged to Becky. His vital signs were taken and revealed his blood pressure was a little high but his pulse rate was acceptable. His pupils were quite slow to react to Ducky's penlight but were equally reactive. The light had inflamed the agonizing throb in Tony's head, causing him to hiss in pain and causing Ducky to conclude that Tony had suffered a serious concussion. He would also need several sutures in his head wound.

"How is he Duck?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky told Gibbs of his concerns about Tony's head injury, advising that Tony should be admitted to the hospital overnight for x-rays, scans, sutures and a concussion watch.

"No," Tony said vehemently. He shrugged off their attempts to help him as he struggled to his feet. He closed his eyes and leant against the wall until he was confident he could stand without falling on his face. "No hospitals, Ducky. I have to see Pete and Helen and tell them about Becky."

"Anthony, I don't think that's a good idea. You of all people should know that a concussion could have serious complications," Ducky argued.

Tony looked at Gibbs for support. Although no words passed between them, Gibbs knew by the set of his senior field agent's jaw that Tony was digging in for a fight. This wasn't just any case -this was Becky, and Pete and Helen were Tony's friends.

"Duck," Gibbs said softly, "he needs to do this. I'll take him back to the office, he can shower and change and you can stitch him up. Then we'll go see Becky's parents and I'll take him home to my place for the night."

Ducky considered this for a moment. He reluctantly agreed but only after Tony promised to advise him of any severe headaches, vomiting or nausea. He could still be heard muttering his disapproval as he made his way to the coroner's truck.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said quietly as Gibbs took his bicep and assisted him into the car.

Tony immediately leant his head on the headrest and closed his eyes.

"Hey, DiNozzo!" Gibbs called. "Don't even think about sleeping yet. You have a concussion, remember?'

"Not sleeping," Tony mumbled, "Just resting my eyes."

Ziva and McGee walked to the car to report to Gibbs.

"Boss, we've roped off the warehouse and conducted a preliminary search of the surrounding area. A more thorough search will be done at first light," McGee advised.

"We found this," Ziva said, holding up a sealed evidence bag with a steel pipe inside. "Looks like the weapon used on Tony, yes? There is blood and hair on it. We will get it to Abby; see if she can lift any prints. We will also have Abby check Tony's weapon and cell for prints other than his. There is no sign yet, of the weapon used on the child."

"I'll take the evidence to Abby," Gibbs replied, taking the evidence bags from her. "We're heading in now anyway. Give Abby a call at home, McGee. Tell her what's happened and I need her to meet me in the lab."

"Sure, Boss," McGee responded. "Agent Balboa's team is en-route to assist us process the scene. We'll speak with the security guard and check for security tapes but I haven't seen any cameras. This place looks like it's been closed for sometime, so there's little chance of finding a witness but we'll canvass the area at first light, just to be sure."

Ziva looked at Gibbs, her face expressionless but concern evident in her dark eyes.

"How is Tony?" she asked. "You are not taking him to the hospital?"

"He'll be fine. He has a concussion and needs stitches in that scalp wound. We're going back to the office to clean him up, then we'll go see Becky's parents and head home for the night," Gibbs said.

"Has Tony told you what happened?" McGee asked

"Only that he didn't see anyone before he was hit," Gibbs said. "We'll give him the night and take his statement tomorrow. Get whatever evidence you find to Abby ASAP and let me know if you find anything important."

He started to move off before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a set of keys and threw them to McGee.

"Drive Tony's car back to the office," he said.

As McGee responded with an "On it, Boss", Gibbs got into the car and headed back to the office, driving much slower than usual in consideration of his ailing passenger.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Gibbs and Tony returned to the office and Tony headed to the locker room to take a shower. He set the water temperature as hot as he could stand and inhaled sharply as it stung his head wound. He stood under the shower allowing the heat and the water pressure to penetrate his aching and tense muscles and almost scrubbed the skin from his hands and forearms in his determination to cleanse himself of Becky's blood. After drying himself, he changed into the spare set of clothes he kept in his locker.

Gibbs escorted Tony to Autopsy for Ducky to check and suture his head wound. Tony was overwhelmingly relieved that Becky's body was nowhere in sight. The pit of his stomach had churned with dread as he imagined himself walking in during her autopsy. Fortunately, Ducky had enough wisdom and foresight to prevent that from happening.

Ducky looked at Tony and shook his head. He was still unhappy that Tony and Gibbs had disregarded his advice and not had the younger agent admitted to hospital.

"By the look of you, young man," he said "I suggest you take a seat on this table before you fall down."

Tony silently was vaguely aware of Ducky re-taking his vitals and clicking his tongue against his teeth to indicate his displeasure when he found Tony's blood pressure was still a little high and his pupil reaction still sluggish. Tony screwed his eyes closed when Ducky administered a syringe containing local anaesthetic into his scalp and he heard the ME vent his displeasure once again when he inserted 11 stitches in his head wound.

During the whole process, Tony had barely taken his eyes off the closed morgue drawers, vaguely wondering which of them housed Becky's little body. Since he started with NCIS, he had literally seen hundreds of bodies placed into the morgue drawers but it was infinitely harder to accept when the person in question was someone he knew, someone he cared about.

He remembered how he felt when Kate was killed. McGee had struggled with demons of his own before coming to the morgue to see Kate. Tony had followed McGee to the morgue, in case the younger agent needed some support – not that he would ever admit that to McGee. Tony's chest suddenly tightened as the still vivid memory flooded back to him.

Ducky's voice disturbed him from his morbid musings. "Anthony??….Anthony??"

"Sorry, Ducky," Tony answered

"I asked you about the nausea and headaches," Ducky repeated

"Oh," Tony answered flatly. He was too exhausted to pretend to be fine. Besides, judging by the way Ducky was looking at him, he doubted the old medic would believe him. "The nausea's not so bad now – headache's killing me."

"I'm not surprised," Ducky said crossly. "You have a very nasty head wound and you should be in hospital! I do wish you'd reconsider about that."

"Please, Ducky," Tony said quietly "I have to do this...I have to tell Becky's parents what happened. I'll come see you tomorrow, have x-rays, CT scans whatever you want but I have to do this tonight!"

Ducky saw the quiet desperation in his young friend's eyes and it worried him greatly.

"Of course, my boy," he said as he patted Tony's arm. "Of course."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

While Tony was in Ducky's capable hands, Gibbs had gone out for a coffee and a Caf-Pow. He was now seated in Abby's lab, waiting for her to arrive. The ding of the elevator sounded and he allowed a tiny grin as he heard Abby's frantic mantra, even before the doors had opened.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Abby repeated frantically as she ran from the elevator to her lab as fast as her platform boots would carry her. She ran directly at Gibbs, almost knocking him to the ground with the force of a linebacker as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh my God, Gibbs! How's Tony? Where's Tony??"

"He'll be fine, Abs," Gibbs said. "He's got a concussion from a pretty bad knock to the head - Ducky's stitching him up at the moment. We're going to see Becky's parents in a few minutes."

He held her tightly to reassure her before prising her hands from around his neck.

"I need you to start processing some evidence," he explained, pointing to the evidence bags on the nearby counter. "The clothes are Tony's, the blood will be his and Becky's. The pipe was used to dent DiNozzo's hard head and that's his Sig and what's left of his cell. See if you can pick up any prints or anything else that will help us catch this bastard."

"Yes, Gibbs," she said in a quiet and subdued way that was very un-Abby like.

"Abs?" he said lifting her chin with his fingers. "He'll be fine. He'll stay at my place tonight and knowing Tony, he'll be here in the morning. You can see him then."

He handed her a large container of Caf-Pow, before leaning in close and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks for coming back in so late, Abs."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs went back to Autopsy to collect Tony for the trip to Pete and Helen's home.

Tony looked absently out of the window of the car occasionally closing his eyes and breathing deeply to ward off the nausea.

"You sure you're up to this?" Gibbs asked.

Tony gave a small nod but remained silent. Although it was already 2330, there was no need to call ahead. They knew the couple would be awake and desperately waiting for any news of their precious daughter. The rest of the drive to Pete and Helen's was completed in silence.

As they parked the car at the front of the house, they noted the lights in the home were on. Tony looked to the front lawn where, just a few short weeks ago, he had watched Becky playing with her puppy. His head pounded unyieldingly as they walked up the path and knocked on their front door.

NCIS agent, Nathan Taylor met them at the door. He had been monitoring the family's phone in case a ransom call was received. He looked at Gibbs and Tony grimly.

"McGee phoned and told me about Becky. I'm sorry Tony," he said. " I haven't told them yet, thought you'd want to speak with them yourself."

As they entered the house, Tony wondered how he could find the words to break the news of Becky's death. As it turned out, he didn't have to say a word – the look of grief and despair on his exhausted face was more than enough to let them know.

Helen cried out in anguish and fell to her knees while Pete and Gibbs helped her to the couch where she continued to cry inconsolably.

"Why, Tony?" she asked. "Why our little girl? She never hurt anyone! She was a good little girl!"

Tony had no answers as he crouched beside her and held her hand. He closed his eyes, knowing Helen's questions and her broken-hearted sobs would haunt him forever.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Pete excused himself to take Helen upstairs and call for the family doctor. His voice was emotionless from shock and grief as he spoke.

"Tony, coffee's already brewed in the kitchen. You know where everything is. Help yourselves. I'll be back down in a few minutes."

Tony nodded, rising to his feet. He swayed a little, almost losing his balance. Gibbs' hand grabbed his elbow and silently steadied him. Regaining his equilibrium he gently shook off Gibbs' support.

"I'll get the coffee," Tony said quietly.

"Need a hand?" Gibbs asked.

"No thanks, Boss," he replied. "I'll manage." Gibbs nodded his understanding.

Gibbs assisted Taylor to disconnect the phone tracing equipment. They packed it away, while waiting for Tony and Pete to return. Ten minutes later they exchanged a grim nod and as Taylor left to return to the office, the family doctor arrived and was directed upstairs.

Noting that Tony had not returned with the coffee, Gibbs walked to the kitchen to help. The coffee was made but the kitchen was deserted and the backdoor open. Gibbs ventured on to the back patio and found Tony sitting on the back lawn with a golden retriever puppy in his arms.

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

_**Flashback**_

_Tony heard the excited voices of a dozen little girls as he walked along the garden path of the Barnes' home. As he rounded the side of the house, he noted how the backyard had been transformed with strings of colourful fairy lights and balloons. Becky sat opening her birthday presents, surrounded by her little friends. Tony saw Helen fussing with the food and decorations on the party tables and Pete, resplendent in party hat, was capturing the action on this Handycam._

_Tony paused for a moment and placed the large box he'd been carrying on the ground._

"_Hey, Hot Shot!" he heard Pete call. "You better not be planning to leave that and run. With a dozen females here, I'm counting on some male support."_

_Becky followed her father's gaze and seeing Tony, she immediately jumped to her feet._

"_Tony!" she squealed excitedly. "You came!"_

_Tony returned her smile and squatted on his haunches to give her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. _

"_Happy Birthday Becks," he replied. "I told you I was coming."_

"_I thought you might have to work," Becky said._

"_And miss out on your cake! No way!"_

_Tony saw Becky frown a little as she saw the large box he had placed on the ground behind him. She was too polite to ask if he'd brought her a gift but her curiosity was evident. She took Tony by the hand and started to drag him towards the party table and the food. She had such a crush on Tony and she couldn't wait to introduce him to her friends._

"_Wait, don't you want to see what I have for you?" he asked._

_She looked up at him, her large brown eyes filled with excitement. She glanced quickly at her parents who nodded their permission. She looked at the box again, unsure whether to open it._

"_Go on, Becks!" Tony encouraged. "Open it up."_

_Pete positioned himself and his Handycam to capture the priceless, look of delight on his daughter's pretty face as she opened the lid to reveal a fluffy little Golden Retriever puppy._

_**End Flashback**_

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

Tony's breath was visible in the cold.

"Trying to catch pneumonia?" Gibbs asked

"This is Brandy," Tony said, not answering the question. "I gave her to Becky for her birthday a few weeks ago. She really loved her! Said it was the best gift ever!"

Gibbs smiled, "I bet she did," he continued softy. "Family doctor's just arrived. You going to be able to get up?"

"Might need a hand, Boss," he said sheepishly.

Gibbs lifted the pup with one arm and extended the other hand to Tony, helping him to his feet and holding on a bit longer to ensure he didn't fall back on his butt. He put the pup back on the ground and guided Tony back into the house.

By the time they had taken the coffee back into the living room, Pete was waiting for them. Pete and Tony hugged briefly, before the Commander directed them to the couch while he took the armchair opposite.

Pete had managed to keep a tenuous hold on his composure, although, he was barely keeping his rage and grief at bay. He directed his question to Gibbs.

"Who did this, Agent Gibbs?" he said "Why?"

Gibbs kept his voice steady and soft. "We don't know yet, Commander. We are still gathering evidence at the scene but it's very early in our investigation. We have our best forensic and medical people working around the clock to find whoever did this."

Gibbs checked his watch; it was after midnight. "We can talk more about this later, you need to be with your wife. I'm sorry to have to ask you this, Pete. We need Becky's next of kin to officially identify her body. Can you come in to NCIS later today, say 1500?"

Pete swallowed several times before answering with a raspy, "Yes."

Gibbs looked at Tony who was raging a war with his own composure. "We should go," he said.

Once again, Pete and Tony hugged, their silence conveyed their shared grief and heartbreak.

The return journey was made in complete silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. There were several times when Gibbs thought Tony had given in to his exhaustion and fallen asleep. A quick glance at his agent found him awake and staring absently at nothing in particular.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

It was almost 0100 by the time they had arrived at Gibbs' home. He walked Tony to the spare room and watched as he fell onto the bed in an exhausted heap, not even bothering to remove his outer clothing.

Gibbs handed him two tablets and a glass of water. Tony cast a wary eye over the tablets.

"I'm not taking sedatives, Boss." He said firmly. "I'm going in to work with you in the morning."

"These aren't sedatives, DiNozzo, although God knows you could use the sleep. It's only Tylenol."

Gibbs waited until Tony had swallowed the pills before heading for the wardrobe and retrieving a spare blanket. He unfolded it and tossed it over Tony before heading for the door.

"You need anything? he asked.

"No, Boss," Tony mumbled, as sleep quickly overwhelmed him.

"Get some rest," Gibbs instructed, "I'll wake you in 2 hours."

Gibbs waited by the door until Tony's breathing had evened out and he was sure he was sleeping. It took only moments as he had been out on his feet. He left the door to the room ajar and headed for his own bedroom.

Gibbs groaned as his alarm clock sounded at 0300. He felt his way down the dark corridor to the spare room to wake Tony for a concussion check. Standing at the door he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was then that he noticed Tony's breathing had changed from a deep and even rhythm to rapid and shallow breaths. Tony wasn't having a full-blown nightmare but his dream certainly wasn't pleasant.

Gibbs leant down and gently shook his shoulder to wake him. "Hey, Tony."

Tony woke up with a start, momentarily disorientated until he recognized the concerned face of his Boss.

"You with me?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm up." Tony mumbled, raising his hands to rub the pain from his throbbing temples.

"Bad dream?" Gibbs asked, although he knew the answer.

"Something like that," Tony replied sleepily.

He closed his eyes and leant back into the pillows.

"How's the head?" Gibbs enquired.

"I'm fine, Boss," Tony mumbled sleepily.

Gibbs' exasperated expression needed no words to enforce his message and Tony hastily amended his statement.

"Headache's bad, nausea's tolerable and you're only a little bit blurry now."

"You know the drill, Tony," Gibbs said, walking across the hall to the bathroom.

"Anthony DiNozzo. Born July 8th. Attended Ohio State. Go Buckeyes." His voice held no expression as he rattled off the answers to the usual concussion check questions.

"And today's date?" Gibbs asked.

"November… 2nd, 2008," Tony dutifully replied.

"Good job," Gibbs said, returning with a glass of water and placing it on the bedside table. "Get some sleep."

"I _was_ asleep. You woke me up!" Tony grumbled as Gibbs made his way back to his own bedroom.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs felt as though he had barely closed his eyes when his alarm clock woke him again at 0530. He had just enough time for a run before waking DiNozzo for another concussion check. He changed into his running gear and tried to stretch the tension from his body as he walked down the hallway, past the spare room. The door was wide open but the bed was empty. Gibbs checked the bathroom - no Tony. He walked down the stairs and spotted Tony sitting in an armchair, staring at a spot on the floor.

"Couldn't get back sleep," Tony answered before the question had been asked.

"How's the head?" Gibbs asked

"I'm good, Boss," Tony lied.

Gibbs eyed Tony sceptically. "Really, DiNozzo, cause you look like crap!" he remarked as Tony rolled his eyes.

Gibbs decided against taking his run. Although he enjoyed the routine and the exercise it provided, he could almost feel the tension and anger emanating from the younger man. Tony wasn't one to share his personal feelings freely but if Gibbs could get him talking about what happened last night, it may help him deal with any misplaced guilt. He fired up the coffee machine and sat across from Tony while he waited for the coffee to brew.

"Feel like some breakfast?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head, then immediately regretted the action as the pounding in his head worsened. A few minutes later, he looked up questioningly as Gibbs placed coffee and two pieces of lightly buttered toast in front of him.

"Eat what you can," he said. "Might help settle the nausea."

After a few moments Gibbs asked.

"Want to tell me what happened last night?"

"Not much I can tell you, Boss," Tony said flatly. "I went to Pete's to go through the list of possible suspects from the search McGee ran. No one on the list stood out and Pete was too distressed to concentrate. I was heading back to the office when I had a hunch and went to see a buddy at Metro PD."

"Rob Symonds is Duty Sergeant at the V St Station and he also plays ball with Pete and me. I wanted to see if there had been any reports or possible sightings of Becky that hadn't been advised directly to NCIS."

"He let me check through the police logs of all calls received by 911 or directly to all Metro PD stations. There were hundreds of calls about the gas main explosion on16th Street but nothing that related to Becky's kidnapping."

Tony took a long sip of coffee before continuing.

"I was just about to come back to the office when 911 received an anonymous call from someone saying they'd heard a child crying in a deserted warehouse complex at Piermont Estate. By that time, most of Rob's patrol units had been called to help evacuate the high-rise apartment block on 16th. The caller sounded like a kid and Rob thought it might be a prank call but I told him I'd check it out."

Tony cringed a little, expecting a harsh reprimand for not calling for back up sooner. Gibbs sat impassively waiting for Tony to continue.

"I drove to the guardhouse at the entrance, the guard wasn't there so I drove in. I'd been at the complex for about 10 minutes and was just about to mark it up as a prank call when I thought I heard a child crying. I followed the sound to Warehouse 10B and called you."

Tony closed his eyes as he recalled what happened next.

"The crying turned to screaming and I had to go in, Boss, I couldn't wait. I drew my weapon, opened the door and headed towards the back storerooms. By that time, Becky was…Becky was moaning. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was in the second room. I was so intent on getting to her that I guess I didn't check the first room properly. I walked past the door and someone hit me from behind. I screwed up Boss.... and Becky...."

He scrubbed his face with his hands before continuing. "When I came to, I couldn't see straight. Becky was crying. Her voice was a whisper but she was calling for her Mom. I tried to get up but I was too dizzy and couldn't walk. So I crawled to the second storeroom and I found her. She was covered in blood and I couldn't stop the bleeding. So I took her in my arms and I hugged her. I told her to hang on, that everything was going to be fine. I told her that help was coming and I would take her home to her Mom and Dad."

He looked up at Gibbs. "I promised her, Boss! I promised them!"

He took a few moments to gather his composure. Gibbs remained silent, allowing Tony to continue at his own pace.

"The next thing I remember is waking up and you and Ducky were there," Tony whispered.

As he looked at Gibbs, Tony's expression changed in an instant from unbridled anguish to white hot fury. His green eyes were wild with rage.

"I want this guy, Boss," he hissed through firmly gritted teeth as he vowed "and I'll get him if I have to chase him into hell!"

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N:- **As this story is primarily a crime fic, this chapter sees the start of the investigation and features forensic and autopsy procedures and findings. Plus we learn more about Tony's strong ties to the Barnes family and a SecNav directive turns up the heat on all of the teams at NCIS. For those of you who like the angst, drama, and confrontations – please bear with me - there's a long way to go and plenty of that ahead. L

**Oo00oO**

Gibbs and Tony arrived in the bullpen at 0630 and found Ducky sitting at Tony's desk with his coat and hat beside him.

"Good morning Jethro, Anthony!" he said in a tone that was way too cheery for such an early hour.

Both men acknowledged him, though nowhere near as enthusiastically.

Ducky looked at Tony critically before saying.

"I believe you made me a promise, young man. I'm here to take you to the hospital."

"Ducky," Tony started to protest, "I'm fine, really. I don't…"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs' tone was harsher than he had intended. "Go with Ducky! If you want to keep working this case, I want you cleared for duty. You better go and see Abby first -she's been worried."

Tony muttered his displeasure under his breath as he headed for the elevator - once he was gone Ducky looked at Gibbs.

"He doesn't look at all well, Jethro. Did he get any sleep last night?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Put him to bed about 0100, did a concussion check at 0300 and found him sitting in the living room at 0530. Don't know how long he'd been there."

"Oh dear," Ducky said, "all the more reason why he should be checked out at the hospital and have some x-rays, and a CT scan. I've taken the liberty of calling a colleague of mine who works at Bethesda, he's expecting us. All being well, we should be back before 10 o'clock."

"Commander Barnes is coming in to officially identify the body this afternoon at 1500," Gibbs said "How soon can you do the autopsy, Duck?"

Ducky smiled sadly. "In view of how important dear Rebecca was to our Anthony, Mr Palmer and I completed the autopsy in the early hours of this morning. I placed the preliminary report on your desk. Rebecca's wounds are, in fact, very similar to those sustained by a young woman I autopsied only recently," Ducky stated.

Gibbs was on his feet in a flash. "What case, Ducky? What young woman?"

"The case was assigned to Agent Markinson's team." Ducky explained. "I believe her name was Cortez. You and Anthony were testifying at the Corelli trial at the time and your team was off rotation. The perpetrator was never caught and I'm afraid and the case went cold."

"I would venture the opinion that our killer has had medical training and that the murder itself was quite deliberate, almost calculated."

Ducky opened the file on Gibbs' desk to further illustrate his point.

"How can you tell, Duck?" he asked.

"Well Jethro, each knife wound was inflicted directly to one of the vital organs, where it would cause the most damage," Ducky explained. "In the case of Miss Cortez, the liver, the kidneys, the lungs and finally the heart. Young Rebecca suffered fatal wounds to her liver and kidneys before Anthony's unexpected arrival interrupted her attacker. This was not a case of randomly stabbing the victim in a blur of rage. No Jethro, our killer certainly knew what he was doing."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed in thought and he quickly looked around the bullpen to ensure his senior field agent was not in the vicinity.

"Ducky, why didn't this guy kill Tony? He was armed with a knife, there's no doubt he knew how to use it and he had Tony cold. Why kill the girl and not DiNozzo?"

"Well, Jethro, at this point I'd only be hazarding a guess," Ducky replied. "Had he hit Anthony much harder, he may very well have killed him! Either he tried to kill Anthony and failed or he just needed Anthony out of the way so he could make his escape. My guess would be the latter, if he wanted Anthony dead, he would have used his knife and made sure of it."

Gibbs nodded his head in agreement. "Thanks Duck," he said. "Sound's like I need to get my hands on the Cortez file."

As he turned to leave Ducky called after him.

"Wait, Jethro! I have more. While performing Rebecca's autopsy, I found traces of chloroform on her face, specifically around her nose and mouth and also traces in her lungs. I found the same on Ms Cortez. I can confirm that chloroform was used to subdue both victims. However, by comparing the chemical elements in the samples from both victims, Abby should be able to determine that the chloroform came from the same source and thereby confirm…"

"That we're looking for the same killer!" Gibbs finished.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony stood watching from the door of the lab as Abby urged her various computers and forensic equipment for faster results. She stilled for a moment, sensing she was being watched and turned in his direction.

"Tony!" she squealed running towards him. Normally, she would throw herself into his arms in a bone-bruising hug. This time, however, she recognized the look of exhausted despair on the face of her friend and drew him into a gentle embrace. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and she felt him take a few deep shuddering breaths to compose himself.

"I was too late, Abs, I couldn't save her," he said softly. "I promised I would take her home to her parents but I couldn't."

"I know," she said sadly, "I'm so sorry, Tony."

She pulled him closer and kissed his cheek before stepping back to take an appraising look at him. He was pale and his green eyes were flat and red-rimmed with tiredness. She saw the gash at the side of his head, which had taken 11 stitches.

"Oh Tony, that's nasty! Have you been to the hospital yet?" she asked quietly.

"Ducky's waiting to take me there, now," he said.

She gave him a sad smile and took his hand.

"Come on, Mister," she said, "Let's not keep the Duckman waiting."

She led him to the elevator and back to the bullpen, delivering him into Ducky's custody. As Tony and Ducky left for the hospital, Abby continued to gaze worriedly after them.

"Abs?" Gibbs called "You okay?"

She turned to look at him with concern evident in her eyes.

"I'm worried about him Gibbs," she said "He's so sad! I'm sure he blames himself for Becky's death."

Gibbs shook his head. "Ducky said Becky would have bled out no matter how quickly they got her to hospital."

Abby gazed sadly at Gibbs. "Unfortunately, Gibbs, Tony won't accept that."

"Tony ever talk to you about the Barnes family, Abs?" Gibbs asked.

Abby's pigtailed head nodded in affirmation. "A little, you know Tony – he prattles on about everyday stuff but keeps what's really important to him close to his chest."

"So you're saying that the Barnes family is really important to Tony?"

"Yep, he met Pete at the JAG office about two years ago when he had to testify on a case. They hit it off, became friends and started playing basketball together. Remember how Tony used to volunteer to work all the holiday weekends so that agents with families could go home?" Abby continued without waiting for Gibbs to reply. "Well, about two years ago, Pete's wife Helen found out that Tony spent Christmas having a stale turkey sandwich at his desk and she totally went off. Helen made sure that Tony was invited to every holiday dinner since." Abby smiled sadly, "They're really special people Gibbs."

"And Becky?"

"You know our Tony doesn't usually have much of a rapport with kids," Abby said. "But Becky was different. He'd take her to all the latest kids movies and always bought her the coolest presents. Tony just adored her. You know Tony's own childhood was no picnic, but he told me once that the Barnes family was what he thought a real family should be."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—

"I'll be right up," Gibbs said into his phone before placing the handset in its cradle.

Automatically, he looked up to tell his team that he had been called to the Directors office, when he remembered that he was alone. Tony had not yet returned from the hospital and Ziva and McGee were still processing the crime scene at the warehouse complex.

Pushing back from his desk, he walked through the bullpen and rounded the corner to the staircase leading to the Director's office.

Cynthia was not at her desk, so Gibbs walked straight in to the office without waiting or knocking. His lips formed a little grin as he realized he would have walked straight in even if Cynthia _had_ been at her post.

Director Jenny Shepard was finishing a phone conversation when she saw him. She signalled for him to take a seat. After completing the call, she replaced the handset and looked up at him.

"I heard about the child, Jethro, I'm sorry," she said genuinely. "How's Tony?"

"At the hospital getting checked out," he answered impassively. "He'll be fine."

"Any leads?" she asked.

"We believe Rebecca's killer may also be responsible for the murder of a young woman last month, a Christina Cortez," Gibbs reported. "The case was assigned to Markinson's team and was given a "cold case" status after only two weeks."

Jenny didn't miss the accusatory tone in the last statement. She looked him directly in the eye as she replied.

"Had you learned to open your emails or bothered to attend the weekly team leader briefings, you would be aware that we have had a directive from SecNav regarding this agency's current caseload." Jenny ignored Gibbs rolling his eyes and explained.

"During the past two months, NCIS has received a record volume of cases falling under our jurisdiction. SecNav is concerned that some of these cases are not being investigated within acceptable timeframes." Jenny frowned; she was not entirely comfortable with the directive herself. She steeled herself for Gibbs' reply.

Gibbs scoffed. "If SecNav didn't insist that his agents attend those damn useless sexual harassment and other rubbish courses, he'd have more teams available to do their jobs!" he voiced loudly.

"Yes, we've all noticed what an overwhelming difference the sensitivity courses have made to your demeanour," Jenny said dryly before she continued a little more assertively. "Until further notice, all cases that have had no new leads or evidence at the end of a two week period, are to be allocated a "cold case" status and the team will be assigned to the next current case."

Gibbs opened his mouth to object and she cut him off by holding up her palm.

"Yes, Jethro, this does include your Major Case Response Team!" she said anticipating his objection. "Once the caseload volumes return to normal levels, teams will be re-allocated these cases and can resume their investigations."

"By that time, Director," Gibbs began, "The perps will be long gone! This is not going to work, Jen!"

"I agree," she said, surprising him a little, "and I argued that very point, Jethro, but SecNav has made his decision. I have my orders Special Agent Gibbs and you have yours. I will be depending on the team leaders to monitor each case closely before giving any file a "cold case" allocation."

Jenny looked more than a little uncomfortable when she added.

"Jethro, I'd really appreciate your input on the cases being investigated by the other teams. We can't afford to miss anything. This means I must insist on your presence at the team leader meetings, once things get back to normal, you can go back to avoiding the meetings like the plague. "

They both leant back in their chairs. Unofficially, they were on the same side of this argument but, as Director, Jenny had to enforce any directives from SecNav – whether she agreed with them or not.

"You already know that I have had an additional assistant medical examiner assigned to our office on a temporary basis to assist Ducky and Palmer. I'm worried about Abby. She's been working around the clock trying to keep up. I've arranged to have an additional forensic specialist assigned TAD to help her. This isn't a perfect solution, Jethro, but it's the best I could do."

Gibbs stood and turned to leave. As he walked to the door he looked back at Jenny.

"Hope you did a thorough background check on the new forensic scientist and made sure they don't have an axe to grind with DiNozzo, like the last one."

She smiled wanly at him and placed her hands on her hips with indignation.

"Of course I did!" she answered sharply. "Give me some credit, Jethro, I'm not your Probie anymore."

She watched him leave the office and once she was sure he had passed out of earshot, she lifted the receiver of her phone.

"Cynthia, could you please return the personnel files for TAD forensic specialist Prudence Connelly and Special Agent DiNozzo? Thank you, no… it's fine. I just need to check something."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva and McGee had spent a bitterly cold night at the crime scene. They had each grabbed a few hours sleep in the car and were giving the perimeter of the warehouse one final look for evidence. The winter sun had finally risen and although it provided little warmth it provided the daylight they needed to complete their search.

They spotted a group of teenaged boys watching them from the other side of the road.

"They have been watching us for almost one hour," Ziva commented.

"Do you think that one of them could be our anonymous 911 caller?" asked McGee.

"There is one way to find out," Ziva replied.

She walked back into the warehouse, leaving McGee to walk in the direction of the boys. He tried to look as casual as possible knowing that the youth in this neighbourhood did not share the best relationship with cops or authority figures.

"Hi," McGee called to the boys. "How are you guys, doing?"

The group suddenly disbursed, teenagers running in all directions. Only one boy remained.

The boy, who looked about 13 years old, seemed as if he were torn between the decision to run or stay. "Are you a cop?"

"No," McGee replied, "I'm a Federal Agent. We're here to investigate the kidnapping and murder of a little girl. Do you live around here?"

"A murder!" A horrified look crossed the boys face. "Um, yeah, I live about two blocks away."

"I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee," he continued, "What's your name?"

The boy suddenly looked suspicious. "I don't have to tell you that. I didn't do anything wrong!"

McGee held up his hands, palms upturned. "No-one said you did. We're just having a conversation. I thought you or one of your friends may have seen or heard something last night, that's all."

"Well, we didn't," the boy replied. "Anyway, I have a seven o'clock curfew, what makes you think I'd be out after nine??"

McGee tilted his head a little to the side. "I haven't told you what time it happened yet."

The realization that he had just said more than he had intended, hit the teenager as if struck. He turned quickly to high tail it after his friends but Ziva had covertly moved into position right behind him, blocking his escape route. She gently took him by the arm.

"You are not in any trouble," she told him, "but I think we may have found our mysterious 911 caller. Yes?"

The boy nodded numbly and McGee fell into step alongside Ziva.

"You know, Ziva," he said. "One of these days, you're gonna have to show me how you do that."

"Do what?" she asked.

"Suddenly materialize out of no-where," he said. "It creeps the hell out of Tony and would give me a chance for a little payback. How did you do that? I didn't even see you coming!"

She gave him one of her "that's for me to know" smiles and accompanied the boy back to the warehouse

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva and McGee waited for the boy's mother to arrive and then took the boys statement and returned to NCIS headquarters. They delivered the evidence they had collected to Abby and returned to the bullpen, just as Gibbs was returning from his meeting with the Director. They spoke briefly before Gibbs sent the younger agents to shower, change and get something to eat. They had worked through another night with little rest. That was part and parcel of being an NCIS field agent and neither of them would complain about the hours – especially within earshot of Gibbs. However, with Tony injured, he needed McGee and Ziva at their best.

Tony and Ducky arrived back at 0900. Tony had just seated himself at his desk when Gibbs sent him to Security in the foyer to arrange a visitor's pass for Commander Barnes' arrival later in the day.

Nodding in the direction of his departing senior field agent, Gibbs asked.

"How is he Duck?"

"Very lucky indeed and exceedingly stubborn, I might add!" Ducky replied. "The x-rays revealed a small hairline fracture to his skull, whilst the MRI indicated minute swelling to his left temporal lobe."

"A fractured skull, Duck?" Gibbs concern was evident. "That doesn't sound too lucky to me!!"

"A _small_ hairline fracture, Jethro and _no_ sign of inter-cranial bleeding. The nausea and dizziness have subsided somewhat and his vision has almost returned to normal. If the scalp wound stays free from infection, it should heal nicely." Ducky continued

"Still sounds bad, Duck. Should he be here?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky looked rather exasperated. "I'm afraid that he is likely to have a rather severe headache for a few days. The doctors wanted to keep him at the hospital for a few hours observation, but he refused. He signed himself out AMA! I really wish you'd talk to him, Jethro, he listens to you. Maybe you can talk him into resting!"

"He's hurt, he's angry and he's got a personal stake in this case, Duck. That's a dangerous combination with Tony," Gibbs explained. "If he's well enough to be out of the hospital, I want him here where I can keep an eye on him. Is he fit for active duty?"

Ducky deliberated a moment before replying. "Light duties, yes. But I'd rather not have him exert himself physically while he has that concussion. The neurologist has prescribed painkillers and anti-inflammatory tablets. As long as he takes his meds and we watch him for any signs of nausea or confusion he should be fine. What he really needs now is proper rest, Jethro – sooner rather than later."

"He's a grown man, Duck," Gibbs said. "You know DiNozzo, he's not going to stop working on this case to take a nap."

Ducky looked at Gibbs with a twinkle in his eye. "Ah," he said mischievously, "you leave that to me."

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

By the time Ziva and McGee returned, freshly showered and feeling a little more rested, Tony was back at his desk completing his written statement of last night's events. Gibbs called them all to Abby's lab for a debriefing. Ducky was already there. As the four agents entered the lab, Ducky looked up at Tony.

"Ah, there you are, my boy!" Ducky said. "I have your meds and a nice cup of herbal tea."

Tony's nose wrinkled at the thought of taking the medication and he looked sceptically at the three tablets in Ducky's outstretched palm.

"What are they Ducky?" he asked

"The two white ones are painkillers and the yellow one is an anti-inflammatory," Ducky explained.

Tony asked suspiciously. "No sedatives?"

"My dear boy!" Ducky answered. "I can assure you that these tablets are not sedatives. They won't cause you to become the slightest bit sleepy."

Tony looked a little embarrassed as he swallowed the tablets.

"Sorry, Ducky," he said, "but I don't want to sleep. I need to be working this case."

"I understand completely, Anthony." Ducky said good-naturedly as he handed Tony the tea and walked to stand next to Gibbs.

"Duck?" Gibbs whispered, "You swap his painkillers for sedatives?"

"Of course not, Jethro!" Ducky whispered in mock indignation. "The sedatives are in the tea. I suggest you position yourself close by - when he goes down, I'm afraid he will go down hard."

Smiling at the guile of the elderly medic, Gibbs positioned himself next to Tony. He watched surreptitiously as Tony finished the hot tea, placed the cup on the counter and perched on a stool as the briefing began.

They all listened attentively as Ziva reported how they had located the teenage boy who had placed the anonymous emergency call. He had broken his curfew and was taking a short cut through the vacant estate when he'd heard screaming and called 911. Although he was too scared to look through the warehouse window, he did notice a van parked outside and had given the make, model and license plate number. They had run a check through DMV and learned that the car had been reported stolen, late yesterday afternoon. They had placed a BOLO.

Tony's eyelids started to get a little heavier as McGee told how he had gone to the guardhouse to take the security guard's statement and check for CCTV. The guard was missing and there were no CCTV cameras installed onsite. He was arranging to speak with the owner of the security company to obtain the name and contact details of the missing guard.

The voices around him began to fade in and out as Tony found it harder to maintain his concentration. Ziva continued her report, advising that the lock on the door of the warehouse had not been picked or jimmied. Therefore, the door had been left open or the killer had used a key. She had lifted prints from the handle and given them to Abby.

Tony attempted to deepen his breathing, hoping the intake of additional oxygen would sharpen his senses. Abby began projecting photos of the crime scene evidence on the large plasma screen. As suspected the blood and hair found on the steel bar had been Tony's, however, she had been unable to lift any prints from it.

The photo of the bar was replaced by an image of Tony's Sig and smashed cell phone.

Tony had to blink hard to keep the photos in focus, as the screen appeared to swing back and forth in waves. He lurched to the side, leaning heavily against Gibbs who grabbed him around the shoulders to steady him.

"Easy, Tony," Gibbs said.

Tony looked confused then stunned as he realized what was happening. He could do nothing to stop the strong pull of the medication as it attempted to drag him into the darkness. His unfocused eyes looked in Ducky's direction. The doctor felt the pangs of guilt as Tony voice revealed his betrayal.

"Ducky??" was all he managed to utter before his eyes rolled backwards and he lost his battle with consciousness. Once again, he began to fall from the stool.

"McGee give me a hand!" Gibbs called. He tightened his grip around Tony's shoulders and he spoke softly into his ear, "I gotcha, Tony."

"The futon's ready, bring him over here!" Abby instructed

With Gibbs lifting his shoulders and McGee his legs, they carried Tony to Abby's futon in the far corner of the lab and laid him down gently.

"Is he out?" McGee asked

"Like a light!" Abby replied covering Tony with warm blankets and stroking his cheek.

"Good job, Duck." Gibbs said.

"Oh my!" Ducky said worriedly, "I'm afraid Anthony is going to be very cross with me when he awakes."

"How long will he sleep, Ducky?" Ziva asked as she crouched to remove Tony's shoes.

"At least four or five hours, I should think," Ducky answered

"Okay everyone, we have a case to solve," Gibbs said leading his team back to their briefing.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Although Tony was dead to the world, they continued the briefing in hushed voices. Gibbs would update Tony later in the day.

Ducky explained to Abby, Ziva and McGee, the similarities between the wounds inflicted on Christina Cortez and Becky and that both victims had been subdued by chloroform. He also told them of his theory that the killer had medical training.

Abby was waiting for the results of a chemical analysis on the chloroform samples from both victims. If they matched, hopefully, they would be another step closer to proving indisputably, that the same killer murdered both victims.

Gibbs had retrieved the Cortez file from the Records Dept. Christina Cortez was a 20-year-old studying Marine Biology at Georgetown University. Her mother, Connie Cortez, a Navy Lieutenant currently assigned to the USS Princeton. The Princeton was serving in the Persian Gulf. Gibbs had tried to arrange to speak with the Lieutenant via satellite link later but she was on assignment and could not be reached for a few days.

Commander Barnes was arriving at 1500 to officially identify the body of his daughter. Gibbs and Tony would continue to look for possible suspects from the list of convictions during the Commander's career as a JAG Prosecutor.

When the briefing was completed, Ziva and McGee returned to the bullpen and Ducky to Autopsy to attend to two new "customers" whose bodies had just arrived.

Gibbs and Abby stood by Tony's recumbent form. Although he was sleeping deeply, his brow was still furrowed, indicating that his sleep was not as peaceful as it should have been.

"Keep an eye on him Abs," Gibbs instructed. "Let me know when he wakes up."

Abby nodded sadly and Gibbs put his arm around her shoulders to reassure her. Walking her back to her workstation they noticed the Director looking over at Tony.

"How did you get him to agree to rest?" Jenny whispered in amazement.

"Well, he didn't actually…agree," Abby answered hesitantly. "Ducky spiked his tea."

Jenny cringed, as at least six regulation breaches and several criminal charges instantly sprang to her mind.

She sighed. "Well, at least he's resting, we can talk law suits later."

Changing topic, Jenny looked at the Goth scientist with a hesitant smile.

"Abby, I need to speak with you?"

Gibbs took that as his cue to leave and had almost made it to the corridor before he heard Abby exclaim.

"_But I like to work alone, Director, you know how I feel about assistants?_"

He decided to take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator and risk being drawn into that particular argument.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Returning to his desk, Gibbs looked at McGee. Anticipating the unspoken question from his team leader, McGee read from his computer screen.

"Boss, Piermont Industrial Estate has been vacated since January 2007. The buildings were often targeted by vandals; itinerants; even arsonists. So the Administrators employed the services of Night & Day Security who are responsible for hiring the guards."

A photo of a very large, blonde man appeared on the plasma as McGee continued.

"This is Allan Francis Maxwell, age 36. Six feet four inches tall, 220 pounds. Lives in a residential hotel in Hyattsville. According to his employer, a…Frank Lawler, Maxwell was the guard rostered to work last night."

"Any priors?" Gibbs asked.

"Did seven years for aggravated assault, released last year," McGee answered.

Ziva looked confused. "Wait, I thought you could not get a security licence in this country, if you had a criminal record?" she asked

"You can't," said McGee. "It seems his employer, Frank Lawler, and Allan Maxwell went to school together. Maxwell needed a job and Lawler overlooked the security licence."

Ziva looked more closely at the photo on the plasma. "That is definitely the man who was in the guard house when we arrived. Why would he leave without speaking to us or finishing his shift unless he had something to hide?"

"He's either a suspect or a material witness. Find him!" Gibbs instructed "Bring him in for questioning."

"On it Boss!" McGee replied as he and Ziva grabbed their weapons and badges from their desks and left the office.

Gibbs continued to read through the Cortez case file that had been compiled by Agent Markinson's team. The file confirmed that Christina was an honour student at Georgetown University, well liked by friends & faculty. There was no indication of any drug, boyfriend or money problems.

Christina was the only child of Lieutenant Connie Cortez who had been in the Navy for 25 years, with an impeccable service record. Lt Cortez' husband had left her 10 years ago. He had died in a traffic accident four years later.

There were no fingerprints but a hair, not belonging to Christina Cortez was found on her clothing, unfortunately there was no match on the National DNA Index. The weapon was never found, there was no evidence of sexual assault and no witnesses. Markinson's team worked the case for two weeks; at the end of that time, they had no new leads and in accordance with SecNav's new directive, Markinson was instructed to allocate a "cold case" status.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Several hours later, Caf-Pow in one hand and coffee in the other, Gibbs made the familiar trip to Abby's lab for a progress report and to check on Tony. The absence of blaring music and the muted lighting was a little strange.

He found Abby comparing slides under a microscope and handed her the Caf-Pow.

"How's he doing, Abs?" he asked looking in the direction of his senior field agent.

"He's still sleeping, Gibbs," Abby replied in a hushed voice. "He had some kind of a nightmare before but didn't wake up. I called Ducky to check on him. He said that Tony would probably sleep for another hour or so. He's so pale and still, Gibbs. Tony's never still. Never, ever!"

Gibbs remembered the nightmare Tony had the night before in his spare room. Given the horror of Becky's murder, he would not be surprised if Tony suffered from night terrors for quite a while.

Not wanting to worry Abby, he replied. "He'll be fine, Abs. Now, what have you got for me?"

Abby took a large calming gulp of Caf-Pow and reported her preliminary findings.

"The samples of chloroform found on both victims, match!" Abby's eyes lit up as they did whenever she was able to confirm their theories or provide valuable case breaking information. "The chloroform definitely came from the same source."

"That's good work, Abs!" Gibbs replied "Anything else?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" she teased. "I'm running the prints Ziva lifted from the door handle of the warehouse through AFIS. Some are yours and Tony's. I haven't had a hit on any others yet but I just started running the program."

Abby continued. "Gibbs, the killer has been very careful not to leave any traceable evidence, so prints on the door handle may not be his. This guy is smart!"

Gibbs nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks, Abs," he said as he turned to leave.

"Wait, Gibbs. I'm not done yet! The scrapings Ducky took from under the fingernails of both victims had no foreign DNA. However, both had tiny blue fibres. My guess is that our killer wore long sleeve overalls to avoid being scratched by the victims and leaving a DNA sample."

Abby took another huge gulp of Caf-Pow – forensics was thirsty work!

Gibbs gave her a half smile. "Why do I think there's a "but" coming?"

"Because you know me so well my silver haired fox!" She tilted her head and smiled cheekily back at him. "You ready for my but?"

"Ready."

"BUT…despite the extraordinary lengths our killer went to, I found a hair on Becky's sweater that does not belong to her but it matches the hair found on our first victims clothes. There was no match on the National DNA Index when we ran it a few weeks back but I'll run it again just to be sure. We are definitely looking for the same killer, Gibbs!"

"Good job Abs!" Gibbs finished "Let me know if you get anything else or when our sleeping beauty wakes up!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs returned to the bullpen just as Ziva and McGee stepped from the elevator. They were alone.

"Where's Maxwell?" Gibbs growled.

"We do not know, Gibbs," Ziva responded "The Manager of his hotel said that he checked out in the early hours of this morning. Broke a 12-month lease and forfeited his bond. He left no forwarding address."

"Looks like he's doing a runner, Boss," McGee said, "I've put a BOLO on Maxwell's car and I'll place an activity alert on his bank account, so we'll know as soon as he tries to access it."

"Keep on it!" Gibbs told them. "I'll be in Autopsy with Ducky."

"How's Tony, Boss?" McGee asked Gibbs retreating back.

"Still out!" Gibbs replied over his shoulder as he strode towards the elevator.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Abby had phoned Gibbs and Ducky when she first noticed Tony slowly start to climb his way back to consciousness. Moving his head slowly, the deep, even breaths that signified he was asleep were becoming shallower.

Ducky and Gibbs arrived within a few minutes of Abby's call and sat quietly watching Tony, as he continued to struggle with heavy eyelids that refused to cooperate.

Tony frowned. He heard his name being called but the voices seemed very far away. He tried to ignore them but they were too persistent. He concentrated his energy on opening his eyes and finally his eyelids opened to slits. He blinked hard trying to focus his vision and saw three blurry faces looking back at him.

Turning his head to look around the room, he realized that he was in Abby's lab. The look of confusion on his face was fleeting as his memory returned in full force. He turned his head towards Ducky.

"You drugged me, Ducky!" Tony's voice was quiet and angry and he slurred his words a little.

"Please try to understand, Anthony," Ducky explained. "You had suffered quite a serious head injury and you needed to rest. As your physician and your friend, I could not allow you to compromise your health any further."

"I told you I didn't want to sleep," Tony censured as he attempted to sit up, his head still fuzzy from the sedative. "How long was I out?"

"Almost five hours," Abby answered hesitantly.

"Five hours!" Tony was aghast. "I can't believe I missed five hours!" He struggled to his feet, unsteadily at first but quickly regained his balance.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly. "You were told to stay in hospital - you wouldn't stay. You were told that you needed to rest - you wouldn't rest. It was either a few hours sleep now or I stand you down from the case and place you on medical leave."

"I do hope you can forgive me, my boy," Ducky said genuinely. "I did have your very best interests at heart."

Tony exhaled loudly and realised that he could never stay mad at Ducky.

"I know, Ducky, he said placing his hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Are you feeling better, Tony?" Abby asked, taking him into a protective hug.

"I'm good, Abs," he winced. "Just a headache, that's all."

"Are you sure you're okay, cause you're all sweaty and sticky!" Abby said placing the palm of her hand on his forehead. "Maybe you have a fever!"

"I don't have a fever, Abs. I'm fine," Tony said defensively. "Besides, I was wrapped in a hundred blankets, it was hot!"

His still fuzzy mind snapped back into investigator mode, as it began to work frantically to make up for five lost hours.

"What did I miss, Boss? Do we have any leads? Has Pete been here yet?"

"Take it easy, DiNozzo," Gibbs instructed. "The Commander isn't due for an hour. Go grab a shower. I'll bring you up to date and I want Ducky to check you over before Pete arrives."

"A shower!" Tony looked surprised. "Wha…??? Really??"

He looked questioningly at Abby, Ducky and Gibbs, who all nodded their heads in quiet affirmation.

Tony took a quick sniff of his underarm and grimaced. "Eww...shower...right, Boss."

He was almost at the door when Gibbs voice sounded out again.

"DiNozzo!!"

"Yeah, Boss??"

"You might need these!" Gibbs said holding Tony's shoes aloft.

Tony looked at his socked feet and then smiled sheepishly.

" Right, sorry Boss," he said as he padded over to retrieve the shoes from Gibbs and then padded out of the lab, headed for the showers.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

An hour later, Tony had showered and changed and Gibbs had brought him up to date with the progress of the case. Although Tony argued against it, his too pale complexion had Gibbs concerned and he ordered him back to see Ducky.

Gibbs met Pete in the foyer of the building. He escorted him to the conference room for privacy, while they waited for Ducky to finish with Tony's check up.

"Thanks for coming in, Commander, I realize how difficult this is," Gibbs said softly.

Pete nodded. "I thought Tony might be here," he said, looking around the offices.

"That blow to the head last night, left him with a hairline fracture, eleven stitches and a major headache."

"Oh God!" Pete gasped. "What hospital is he in? I'll go and see him."

"He's here Commander and he'll be fine. Our Doc's keeping an eye on him. We'll go see him in a few minutes." Gibbs continued. "I'd have to slap him in irons to keep him from finding who did this to Becky."

Pete smiled sadly. "He's a good friend. Becky _loved_ Tony. She used to tell us that she was going to marry him when she grew…up." Pete winced at the painful reminder that his little girl would never get any older.

"You known Tony long?" Gibbs asked trying to gauge the strength of the friendship and whether he should reconsider allowing Tony to work the case.

"Just a couple of years. He's a great guy but we don't see him a lot – we both work crazy hours. We play b-ball together occasionally and when Helen found out that Tony works most holidays, she insisted he join us for dinner last Christmas and Easter. We were supposed to be having Thanksgiving dinner together this year – I…I can't see that happening now. Helen's always nagging him to eat properly and take better care of himself."

"She's got her work cut out there," Gibbs said

Pete took a deep breath. "Tony never said anything but we guessed he doesn't have a great relationship with his own family. He was wonderful with Becky – took her to the movies, spoiled her rotten."

Gibbs nodded thoughtfully. _'It would be just like Tony to tell the team he was taking a date to the movies and dinner, when he was actually taking Becky to an animated feature and McDonalds.'_

He looked directly at the Commander and spoke with a steady and compassionate voice.

"It was Tony who found Becky. She was still alive when he found her, she didn't die alone. Despite his own serious injury, Tony did everything he could to keep her alive until back-up and the EMTs arrived."

He continued gently "Becky's wounds were too severe and he couldn't save her. I'm very sorry Commander, I understand the depth of your loss."

As Pete's eyes met Gibbs' piercing blue ones, they recognized in each other the undeniable heartbreak of a father who has suffered the unbearable loss of his little girl and Pete realized that Gibbs truly did understand his pain.

Gibbs answered his ringing cell phone, listened for a moment, and then snapped it closed without saying goodbye.

"They're ready for us," he said. "We do have some more questions for you afterwards, if you feel up to it. If you're ready, we should…"

He didn't need to complete the sentence as they walked to the elevator and met Ducky and Tony in Autopsy.

Tony and Pete hugged briefly and spoke softly for a moment before Tony introduced Pete to Ducky. Gibbs leant against the autopsy table watching the others. He couldn't hear their words but instinctively knew by their body language that Ducky conveyed his condolences genuinely and compassionately. '_He may be loquacious,'_ Gibbs thought to himself, _'but in a tough situation, Ducky always knows the right thing to say.'_

Tony joined Gibbs, standing together by the autopsy table, allowing Pete and Ducky some space as they walked to stand in front of the mortuary drawers. Ducky placed a hand of support on Pete's shoulder and gave him an enquiring glance. Pete answered with a brief nod and Ducky opened draw number six.

Tony turned away, not wanting to look as Ducky drew down the sheet that covered Becky's face. A choked sob escaped from Pete's throat as he nodded his head in confirmation. He leaned down and gently kissed her before signalling Ducky to replace the sheet and close the drawer.

Leaving Autopsy, Tony and Pete returned to the conference room. Gibbs left briefly to collect his files and arrange for some coffee while they discussed the case.

"How are you and Helen coping?" Tony asked softly.

"Helen's sister is staying few a few days," Pete replied, "Our families are flying in for the funeral." He looked at Tony "You'll be there?" he asked.

Tony nodded. "Of course," he said sadly

"Agent Gibbs told me that someone finally cracked that hard head of yours. You okay?"

"I'm fine, Pete," Tony replied

"Really, Tony?" Pete asked "Cause you look like crap!"

"That's what I keep telling him!" Gibbs said, walking back through the door. He was juggling three coffees and had two files under his arm.

"You guys are great for my ego!" Tony grumbled sarcastically.

"Believe me, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, "your ego doesn't need any help!"

Tony rolled his eyes as he stood to relieve Gibbs of the coffees. He sniffed at his coffee suspiciously, the herbal tea incident still fresh in his mind. He took a cautious sip and was satisfied when he realized it was just as he liked it – hazelnut and loads of sugar!

Gibbs got straight down to business. "As you know, Commander, we've compiled a list of people you have successfully prosecuted. We're looking for anyone who may have harboured a grudge or threatened revenge."

Pete nodded. "Tony brought the list to my home last night." He said. "I've been at JAG a long time, Agent Gibbs. That's a long list. To tell you the truth, I can barely remember half of the names let alone the people or the cases."

Tony replied. "That's why we're working with your colleagues at the JAG office, to have your old files delivered to our office. The files will have photos, court transcripts, your case notes, verdicts; more of the information we need. But, as you said, there were so many cases that reviewing each one will be an enormous and time-consuming exercise. Anything you can think of will be a huge help. "

Gibbs produced two photos from the second file and placed them on the table in front of Pete.

"Do you recognize either of these women, Commander?" he asked

Pete looked at the photos of Lieutenant Cortez and her daughter Christina. He could see a similarity that suggested they were mother and daughter.

"I don't think I know them," he said. "Who are they?"

"The young woman is Christina Cortez. 20 years old," Gibbs explained. "She was murdered a few weeks ago, in similar circumstances to Becky. We believe we're looking for the same killer."

Gibbs pointed to the other woman's photo. "This is Lieutenant Connie Cortez, Christina's mother. Currently serving aboard the Princeton."

Gibbs then placed a third photo on the table, a large blonde man. As the Commander scrutinized the photo of Allan Maxwell his hands began to shake.

"Is this him? Is this the man who killed my little girl?"

Tony placed his hand on his friends shoulder. "We don't know yet, Pete. At this stage he is just a person of interest. So far the only link we can find is that both Becky and Christina have a parent in the Navy. We don't think the motive is as random as that. If we can establish a connection, then we have a much better chance of finding this bastard."

Pete concentrated on the photos, desperate to recognize the faces and provide an important break in the case. Finally he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"That's okay," Gibbs replied, rising to his feet and shaking Pete's hand. "We're exploring other avenues. Thank you for your time today, Commander. We'll be in touch and will certainly keep you apprised of any developments. Tony will see you out."

As the three men turned to leave, Pete said grabbed Tony's forearm.

"Wait," he said. He took several deep breaths to steady his voice but tears filled his eyes as he spoke.

"Agent Gibbs told me that when you found Becky she was still alive. Did she suffer, Tony? Was she scared?"

Tony closed his eyes, remembering Becky's screams and her agonized and terrified expression. Then he looked directly into the grieving eyes of his friend, Becky's father. He breathed deeply before answering.

"I held her in my arms, comforted her. It was peaceful at the end. She just went to sleep."

Tony held Pete's gaze, hoping to provide some form of comfort for his friend. He drew on every one of his undercover skills and he desperately prayed that Pete wouldn't see that he was lying.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00o—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

After their meeting with Pete had ended. Gibbs had returned to his desk and Tony had walked Pete from the building. Gibbs took the opportunity to phone Ducky to get an update on Tony's check-up.

"He's a resilient lad, but you never know with our Anthony!" Ducky told him. "He appears to be a little better, since he rested, but he's not entirely out of the woods. Head traumas can be tricky things, as you well know. His vitals have returned to normal. His pupils are still a little sluggish, most probably caused by, what must be, a dreadful headache."

Ducky chuckled softly. "After the herbal tea incident, I had a most difficult time persuading him to take his meds. I thought I was going to have to force-feed him. In fact, it rather reminded me of the time when I was travelling through Peru and this rather stubborn llama refused to…"

"Duck….Ducky!!" Gibbs interrupted. "So, you're saying he's okay?"

"No, Jethro, I am not!" Ducky stressed. "I'm saying that we need to ensure that he stays on his meds, eats properly, get a decent amount of sleep and does not exert himself physically for the next few days."

"Not much chance of that, Duck!" Gibbs said, snapping his cell shut and ending the call.

Thirty minutes had passed and Tony had still not returned. Gibbs had started to get a little concerned when the elevator doors opened and Tony walked to the bullpen balancing a cardboard tray with coffee for his teammates and a Caf-Pow for Abby. He placed a coffee on Gibbs' desk, answering the stern look and raised eyebrow with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Sorry, Boss, needed some fresh air," he said.

McGee looked at Tony with concern.

"You okay, Tony?" he asked, nodding his thanks for the coffee.

"I'm good, Probie," Tony replied, trying to ignore the jackhammer still pounding in his head.

"Toda, Tony," Ziva said while accepting her coffee. "Of course he is fine, McGee. Tony is as tough as snails."

"It's nails, Ziva," McGee corrected, "as tough as nails."

Ziva noticed the small grin that flashed across Tony's face. It disappeared just as quickly but it was the closest thing to a smile she'd seen from him in days. '_It was worth the grammatical embarrassment to see it.' _She thought.

Gibbs phone rang and he answered in his usual succinct manner. Seconds later he replied, "We'll be right up." and replaced the receiver.

"Boss??" Tony asked.

"Abby's got something," Gibbs answered as they grabbed their drinks and headed for the lab.

They heard the music pumping from the lab even before the elevator doors had opened. Tony's head pounded with every bass beat of the music. Noticing Tony's obvious discomfort, McGee turned the volume down and handed Abby the Caf-Pow.

"Hey," Abby complained, "I was listening to that!"

"So was the population of Australia, Abs," Gibbs said sarcastically. "You got something?"

"I do!" she confirmed. "As you know, we found a strand of hair on the clothing of both victims. This hair did not match the victims but they matched each other, which places this person, presumably the killer, with both victims."

"So, you're saying the killer could be a likely candidate for Advanced Hair Studio?" McGee quipped and winced as he received a Gibbs head slap.

"Maybe, but not necessarily." Abby replied. "On average, everybody loses between 40 and 100 strands of hair per day. I ran the hair through the National DNA Index System but didn't get a match."

"So that means the killer has no criminal record or has not committed a crime since the inception of the NDIS in 1994, yes?" Ziva added.

"I'm afraid so," Abby confirmed. "I'm now running the hairs through Major Mass Spec to see what other information I can get."

Gibbs nodded his head brusquely. "Let me know when you have something," he replied and turned towards the door with the three agents on his heels when an alarm on one of Abby's computers beeped loudly.

"Wait Gibbs," Abby called. "We got a hit on AFIS on the print Ziva lifted from the door handle of the warehouse."

She turned to read from her computer screen. "Allan Francis Maxwell, our missing Security Guard."

"We need to find this guy now!! Whether he's a suspect or a possible witness, I want him here," Gibbs said sternly as he turned to Tony. "DiNozzo-"

"Request the police & prison records and complete a full history. On it Boss," Tony said before leaving the lab.

"McGee-"

"Check the BOLO on Maxwell's' car and the alert on his bank account. Then check with the DMV for any updates on the stolen car at the crime scene. Right Boss," McGee replied, heading for the door.

"David-"

"Speak with the supervisor at the security company to find out if Maxwell had any favourite hang-ups." Ziva ran to share the elevator with Tony and McGee.

Abby gave Gibbs a sly grin. "I think she meant _hang-outs_." Looking around the empty lab, Abby commented, "Gee Gibbs, you really know how to clear a room!"

"Good work, Abs," Gibbs said, turning to follow his agents back to the bullpen.

"Wait! Um, Gibbs!" Abby chewed nervously on her bottom lip. "The Director assigned me an assistant forensic specialist for the next few weeks. You know how I like to work alone, Gibbs. Remember what happened last time she gave me an assistant? He almost sent Tony to jail, you know, the big house, up the river, in the slammer!"

"I got it, Abs, but it's out of my hands. It's just until the workloads settle down." Gibbs consoled. "When does he start?"

"_He_ is a _she_ and she's already started," Abby said in a whisper while glancing over her shoulder to the sound proof Ballistics Lab.

Following her gaze, Gibbs saw a young woman wearing a stern expression, dark rimmed glasses and a crisp white lab coat. She wore no make up, comfortable tailored slacks and sensible shoes. Her mousy brown hair was drawn back severely into a bun, giving her an older appearance.

"That is Prudence Connelly, my TAD assistant for the next few weeks," Abby said cringing. "You see my dilemma."

Gibbs shrugged, "No Abs, I don't. Is she qualified?"

"Oh yes, highly qualified. She's very bright."

Gibbs looked at the young woman again. "Is she a good worker? Knows her way around a lab, follows instructions and has had no prior contact with DiNozzo?"

"Definitely," Abby said, pigtails bobbing to emphasize the point. "She's done everything I've asked, needs little supervision or direction, uses her initiative and she has never even heard of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

Gibbs shrugged again. "I can't see a problem, Abs."

Abby looked around the lab to ensure that their conversation would not be overheard.

"What I'm about to say is from a strictly professional point of view, Gibbs." Abby leant in close to whisper in his ear. "It's the way she dresses."

Gibbs lips quirked into a half smile as he looked affectionately at the pale Gothic woman with the jet-black pigtails, various tattoos, spiked dog collar choker, and skull and crossbones t-shirt and plaid mini-skirt, precariously balanced on 3 inch platform boots.

"I know that I make this job look like fun, Gibbs, and believe me – it totally is - but forensics is a very serious business. How on earth does she expect to be taken seriously as a scientist, looking like _that_?"

He wisely chose not to be drawn into that topic. "Abs, you've been working around the clock for weeks. With the current caseloads, you have a mountain of work up here." He softened his voice. " It's just for a few weeks. You could use someone to help you with the grunt work. The Director doesn't want you to burn out or get sick….and neither do I."

"But I love my job, Gibbs, even the grunt work! I don't mind having to work all night or not having a day off!" she argued.

Gibbs leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "That's why you're my favourite."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The bullpen hummed with the hushed telephone voices and furious tapping of keyboards as the agents worked feverishly to acquire any additional information that would assist them to locate the missing security guard, Maxwell.

There had been no hits on the BOLO on Maxwell's car and his bank accounts had not been used in the last 48 hours. The supervisor at Night and Day Security told them that Maxwell was known to frequent O'Leary's Nightclub. It was rather a seedy establishment, known for the drug dealing and illegal gambling that openly transacted there. Maxwell dabbled in both pastimes.

Maxwell's police and prison records were being emailed to Tony. Though, not as quickly as he would like, judging from the tone of his voice and the force with which he replaced the handset of the phone at the end of the call.

Tony's levels of frustration at their lack of progress were growing more evident by the minute. The ferocity with which he assaulted his keyboard and the audible growling sounds that he made with increasing regularity signalled to everyone that he was fast approaching his breaking point.

It was already after 2100 and Gibbs knew it was unlikely that the investigation would advance further tonight.

"That's it!" he said. "Go home, eat. Get some rest. Be back here by 0630."

McGee and Ziva nodded and gathered their things, preparing to leave. Tony barely moved, the lines of pain and weariness had etched themselves into creases around his eyes.

"You hear me, DiNozzo? Time to go home!" Gibbs repeated.

Tony quickly glanced away from his computer as he replied. "Boss, we could get a hit on the BOLO or he could use his bank account any minute. I'll stay. I'm fine, _really._"

"DiNozzo, you can barely keep your eyes open! The only reason Ducky cleared you for duty is because I assured him that you would take care of yourself." Gibbs tried to keep his voice level. "If you are not capable of that, then I will have Ducky place you on medical leave. Come on, I'll drive you home!"

Tony pointed back to his computer and started to repeat his objection. "But Boss, the BOLO could come in…"

Gibbs rolled his eyes in pure exasperation. Had it not been for the eleven stitches, hairline fracture and concussion, he would have cuffed the back of Tony's head.

"McGee has already programmed the whats-it on his computer to message his PDA do-hicky. If he gets a hit, he'll let us know. Now let's go!"

"You really don't have to drive me; I have my own car here and…" A quick glance at the look on Gibbs' face had Tony back-pedalling quickly, "….and I have a concussion, so driving is bad…really, really bad. I'm coming Boss!"

He sighed in resignation as he switched off his computer, gathered his weapon and backpack and followed his team to the elevator.

It wasn't until he was seated in Gibbs' car and they were headed out of the Navy yard, that Tony realised just how tired he was. Tension had crept into every muscle and his head still throbbed unmercifully. He rested his head on the side window and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't stir again until Gibbs reached across to shake his shoulder when they had completed the twenty-minute journey to Tony's apartment.

"Whoa!" Tony mumbled. "Must've been more tired than I thought!"

"You okay from here?" Gibbs asked

"Sure, Boss, see you tomorrow," Tony said exiting the car.

"I'll pick you up at 0600. Don't be late!" Gibbs called after him.

Gibbs grinned to himself as he heard Tony groan in reply.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony was leaning against the tree at the front of his apartment block, jiggling his legs and rubbing his hands up and down his arms in an effort to ward off the cold when Gibbs arrived at 0600 sharp. As the younger man climbed into the car, Gibbs noticed that he looked tired, his face taut and drawn.

'_Yep,'_ Gibbs thought to himself. _'Definitely night terrors.'_

"You get any sleep?" he asked.

"Some," Tony replied flatly.

When Gibbs' second question was met with a similar unenthusiastic response, he realised that Tony was in no mood for conversation. Gibbs didn't push him. He knew Tony well enough to know that he had a stubborn streak a mile wide. He would not be forced into anything before he was ready. Tony would eventually seek him out if he needed to talk but what he needed now was time and understanding. Gibbs would not deny him that so he guided the car into the traffic and left him to his thoughts.

They arrived at their office only moments before Ziva and McGee. After greeting Tony and Gibbs they both immediately set about their work.

"Anything on the BOLO, Probie?" Tony asked.

McGee shook his head. "Nothing yet, sorry, Tony."

"It is early," Ziva said noting the look of frustration reappearing on Tony's face. "He cannot go far without money or a car."

The morning came and went quickly and they were no further advanced in their investigation. Tony's mood deteriorated to the point where any communication from him came in grunts or monosyllabic replies, as he grew more aggravated. The throbbing of a fierce headache made it difficult for him to concentrate as he tried to ignore the feeling that Becky's killer was getting further away from them.

It was 1220 before McGee received a report that Metro PD had located the stolen car seen at the warehouse on the night of Becky's murder. Gibbs sent McGee and Tony to check it out. They made good time through the lunchtime traffic despite McGee's "steady she goes" driving technique and the fact that his concussion meant that Tony was strictly a passenger for a few days. They arrived at the site to find a Metro PD police unit parked by the side of a steep embankment. As they made their way towards it, they saw that the car had been completely burnt out.

Tony's heart sunk as he realized that any DNA, prints or other vital evidence the vehicle contained would be almost impossible to extract. He retrieved a camera from the trunk of their sedan to take the necessary photographs and instructed McGee to notify Gibbs and arrange for a tow truck to get the vehicle back to NCIS. He felt his frustration levels kick up another notch.

'_Another dead end'_ he thought.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

McGee arrived back at his desk and gaped at the stacks of archive file boxes placed between the workstations. The boxes contained files of Commander Barnes' legal cases that had resulted in convictions. Pete was right. Over a 15-year career, there were hundreds of files.

The JAG office took threats against its personnel very seriously. They had compiled their own list of eight persons of interest, who had threatened violence against the Commander. Gibbs and Ziva had already begun to check on the whereabouts of those eight people.

At Gibbs' enquiring look, McGee explained that Tony had elected to return in the tow truck. Gibbs and Ziva were both surprised. Tony would normally consider that task unworthy of his experience and stature as senior field agent and would order McGee to ride in the tow truck while he returned in the comfort of the NCIS vehicle. Concussion or no concussion.

"He is alright, yes?" Ziva asked.

"I'm not sure," McGee said. "He didn't complain about my driving, hasn't ragged on me about anything for days. In fact, he's not said much of anything lately."

"DiNozzo's fine. He'll work through this," Gibbs said. "Grab some files McGee. We can use the help."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Abby met Tony as he returned to the NCIS garage in the tow truck. She linked her arm through his in a silent, comforting gesture. She loved Tony like a brother and she hated to see him so miserable.

As they looked over the burnt out wreck, Tony shook his head slowly, knowing there was very little chance of finding any evidence that could assist their investigation.

"Don't you worry, Mister!" Abby told him. "I will go over this thing with a fine tooth comb. If there's something to be found – I will find it!"

"Thanks, Abs." He gave her a half grin and headed for the elevator.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony returned to the bullpen and joined his teammates in their search for information on each of the eight persons of interest.

Several hours later, at 2030 they stood in front of the large plasma screen by Gibbs' desk to discuss their findings. Of the eight persons of interest, two were dead and four still called Leavenworth home. Two had been released. Ziva had confirmed that one of the released was now living in California. She had already verified his alibi. This left one person of interest whose whereabouts at this time were unknown.

Tony excused himself as his cell phone rang. He spoke quietly into his phone for a few moments before returning to his team.

"Problem, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked

"No Boss, but I need some personal time tomorrow," Tony explained quietly.

"The funeral?" Gibbs guessed. Tony nodded solemnly. "Take the day, Tony."

"Shouldn't need more than a few hours," Tony explained, anxious to return to the investigation as soon as possible. "The funeral is at 0900. I'll come back to the office afterwards."

Gibbs nodded his head in agreement, not willing to push the point.

"Boss!" McGee said hanging up his phone. "That was Dr Philip Green. He's an oncologist at Thomas Jefferson Uni Hospital in Philadelphia. He just confirmed that our last person of interest, James Davies, has end stage cancer and has been in the oncology ward for the last four weeks. He's not our killer."

"DAMMIT!!" Tony's loud and uncharacteristic curse turned every head in the Operations Room as his frustration erupted. "Another_ freaking _dead end. Our only leads now are a missing security guard and Pete's three hundred legal files which may or may not have any relevance to Becky's killer!!"

He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair as he tried to calm his breathing. When he opened his eyes, he said in a soft voice. "I'm sorry Boss. I'll keep going through the files."

"Grab your gear, DiNozzo, I'll drive you home," Gibbs said with finality. "You have the funeral to deal with tomorrow."

Tony protested vehemently but Gibbs would not be swayed. He sent his team home for the night, knowing McGee and Ziva would both be in early again tomorrow to continue to sort through the Commanders' legal files.

Ziva rose to her feet and collected her things. She rounded her desk and made her way to the elevator.

"McGee! Go home," Gibbs instructed.

"I'll be right behind you, Boss," McGee assured him.

Ignoring the furious scowl DiNozzo was wearing, Gibbs led the way to the elevator where Ziva stood holding the door open for them. They arrived at the car park level and were walking to their cars when McGee ran breathlessly from the stairwell.

"Boss, wait!" he yelled causing all three agents to reflexively reach their hands towards their side arms.

McGee had been switching off his computer for the evening, when an alert sounded on his PDA. Allan Maxwell, the missing security guard, had just accessed his bank account at the ATM a block from O'Leary's Nightclub. It was a good bet he was on his way to O'Leary's.

--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--

They took two sedans, Gibbs and Tony in one and Ziva and McGee in the other, and parked together, a little down the block from O'Leary's. They were close enough to watch both entrances as the front entrance opened onto the street, while the side entrance opened into a dimly lit alley. They needed to confirm that Maxwell was inside.

"I'll go in, Boss," Tony volunteered. "I'll attract a lot less attention than any of you."

"No!" Gibbs replied adamantly. "Have you forgotten that you are not cleared for active duty, DiNozzo?"

"Then, who's going in?" Tony countered.

"Ziva and I will go in and cover the front, McGee will cover the side exit from the alley," Gibbs instructed, "and if you even think about getting out of this car, you'll find my foot in your ass."

"But Boss, this isn't _exactly_ your type of establishment," Tony objected.

"Just what kind of establishment is _my_ type of establishment, DiNozzo?" Gibbs barked giving Tony a look that would freeze hell.

"I just meant that it's a meeting place for low-lives, junkies and dead beats. I keep telling you, Boss, I make a better low-life than you do."

"You got that right," Gibbs said. "But you're still not going in."

Gibbs knew that Tony was right. Dressed in a pair of jeans, light sweater and runners, with his hair messed and the dark circles under his eyes, Tony would fit right in with O'Leary's usual clientele. However, Tony also had a concussion and hairline skull fracture and Gibbs would not risk him to the possibility of further injury.

They fitted their earwigs and com-links and headed for O'Leary's leaving a very exasperated DiNozzo sitting in the car monitoring their transmissions.

"I'm in position in the alley, covering the side exit," said McGee

"Roger that." Gibbs acknowledged as he and Ziva entered the nightclub through the front door.

Loud distorted music and the stench of smoke and alcohol assaulted their senses as Gibbs and Ziva seated themselves at a table, carefully scanning their surroundings.

"Tony was right," Ziva said.

"About the clientele or about us attracting attention?" Gibbs replied.

"Both."

"Well, contrary to popular belief, he didn't make senior field agent because he smiled."

Gibbs knew that Tony was listening. He hoped the backward compliment would provide an encouraging boost to the confidence levels he seen flagging over the past few days.

In a whispered voice Ziva advised McGee and Tony via her com-link, that they had a visual on Maxwell. He was seated with two unknown men at the far end of the bar. They watched as the men traded drugs for cash, bemused that the transaction had been so blatant and unabashed. After a few minutes, the two men stood and walked to another table, presumably waiting for their next customer. Maxwell remained seated for a few moments before he stood and turned to leave via the alley.

"Maxwell's coming out, McGee," Gibbs warned, heightening McGee's alertness and causing Tony to lean forward in the car trying to get a better look.

Maxwell exited the nightclub and walked into the alley. Ziva and Gibbs stood and walked quickly to close in from behind. As they approached the side exit, the two drug dealers blocked their path.

From his position in the car, Tony heard Gibbs identify himself and Ziva as federal agents and order the men to step aside. Then he heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting, glass smashing and tables and chairs being upturned. Although concerned, Tony knew that the combination of Ziva and Gibbs would best most comers.

For now, Tony's primary concern was for McGee, left to face Maxwell in the alley without backup. He winced a little at the thought of disobeying Gibbs' direct order to stay in the car but he needed to ensure that someone had McGee's back. Climbing from the car and positioning himself directly across the road from the alley, his tension eased slightly once he had McGee in his sights. He could still hear the sounds of the fight inside the club through his earwig. Gibbs and Ziva were still otherwise occupied.

He watched and listened as McGee identified himself to Maxwell as a federal agent, just as Gibbs had done moments earlier. He instructed Maxwell to place both hands against the wall of the building and the huge man appeared to comply.

Tony couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that instinctively caused him to run towards the alley, but he was already sprinting across the road as he saw Maxwell turn with a speed that surprised McGee. Maxwell's huge fist connected with McGee's jaw, sending the young agent sprawling through the trashcans lining the alley and leaving him momentarily dazed. For a man of 220 pounds, Maxwell was surprisingly fleet of foot as he ran towards the street and caught sight of the rapidly approaching Anthony DiNozzo.

With the speed and strength of a trapped animal, Maxwell ran directly at Tony. Leaning in as he ran, he hit Tony under the ribcage with his shoulder, expelling the air from Tony's lungs with a mighty whoosh. The impact knocked both men to the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

Winded and stunned by the force of the collision, Tony was pinned to the ground by Maxwell's bulky frame and unable to move. Maxwell recovered quickly, drawing back his ham-sized fist and intending to pummel Tony into the ground until he felt the cold steel barrel of Gibbs' gun at the nape of his neck.

"Do it and die," he said menacingly.

Ziva assisted McGee to stand and they ran to join their teammates. Gibbs had manhandled Maxwell to his feet and Ziva and McGee placed him in handcuffs. Tony lay writhing on the ground wheezing and gasping for air.

"Tony!" Gibbs was kneeling by his side now and Tony's eyes were closed tightly as he desperately tried to catch his breath. "Tony, look at me! Did you hit your head?"

Tony opened his eyes, his pale face rapidly changing colour due to lack of oxygen.

"M'kay, Boss…just knocked…the wind...out of me," he managed to choke out.

"Take it easy, take deep breaths," Gibbs replied. Tony was still on the broad of his back. Recovering from the impact of the collision, his traumatized diaphragm once again started to assist his lungs to inhale and exhale. It took a few minutes for Tony to start to breathe more normally. Gibbs helped him to sit up and then checked on McGee. The junior agent assured him that he was fine but, already, the telltale sign of a large bruise was forming on his jaw.

Gibbs' eyes met fleetingly with Ziva's. They had run directly from the bar fight to the alley and had not had the chance to check if either of them had been injured in the fight. Apart from some split and bruised knuckles, Gibbs looked fine and Ziva had barely mussed a hair. The nod of mutual respect and the tiny grin they exchanged was enough to confirm that they were fine and they had secretly enjoyed the physical confrontation. Ziva and McGee led Maxwell to their sedan for the trip back to NCIS.

Two patrol units from Metro PD arrived. Gibbs flashed his badge and explained that they had witnessed the two men inside the club selling drugs; they had impeded a federal investigation and assaulted two federal agents. Gibbs told the officers that they would find them handcuffed to a table and handed the officers his handcuffs key and business card, telling them to contact him when they required his statement.

Gibbs assisted Tony to his feet and steered him towards the car.

"Catch your breath, DiNozzo," he growled angrily, "because once Ducky's had a look at you, we are going to have a discussion about why the _hell_ you got out of the car!"

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Not a word was spoken between the two men as they drove back to the Navy yard.

A storm was definitely coming, if the thundercloud expression on Gibbs' face was any indication. Seated in the passenger seat, Tony surreptitiously moved his hand to his ribs and gave an almost imperceptible wince. The move didn't escape Gibbs' notice and he exhaled loudly to signal his displeasure.

It was almost 2300 by the time they made it back to the office. McGee and Ziva had taken Maxwell to Interrogation to wait for Gibbs who had frog-marched Tony down to Autopsy for another check up. Tony secretly hoped that Ducky had left for the evening or was too busy to poke, probe and lecture him tonight – no matter how well meaning the elderly doctor was.

They walked into the Autopsy room to find Ducky giving his TAD Assistant ME, William Fenner, a dressing down. They politely stood at the far end of the room, pretending not to listen.

"To surmise, Mr Fenner," Ducky said, "we all expect to make mistakes in our first days on the job but the important thing is that you learn from them. Next time, I expect you will apply the brakes on the gurney and secure the body so that we do not have to chase the wretched thing down the hill and retrieve the body from the creek below!"

"Yes, Dr Mallard," the young assistant ME nodded his head enthusiastically. "I'm sorry, Sir, it will never happen again!"

"Quite frankly, my boy, I don't think you could do that again if you tried!" Ducky said. "Now, go with Mr Palmer and restock the storeroom before we get another run. There's a good lad!"

Palmer had been standing off to Ducky's right. His arms were folded across his chest and he shook his head in righteous disbelief.

"The storeroom's this way Probie," Palmer said, giving the younger man a quick head slap as he walked by and both young men left the room.

Seeing the two agents approach, Ducky explained. "He's very eager to please but I'm afraid he makes young Mr Palmer look as light on his feet as Fred Astaire. Now, what can I do for you two?"

"Have you got time to give DiNozzo a quick once over, Duck?" Gibbs said. "I need to go to interrogation."

Tony's head snapped up. "Boss? Can't I do this later? I was hoping to be with you when you interrogated Maxwell."

"And I was hoping you'd obey orders and stay in the damn car, DiNozzo!" Gibbs replied furiously before heading for the elevator and leaving Tony gaping.

"My, my, something has got Jethro riled up," Ducky said. "Would I be right in assuming that you are the cause of that bluster, Anthony?"

Tony nodded. "He's pissed at me, Ducky."

"Hmmm. Angry or concerned, my dear boy??" Ducky asked. "With Jethro, it can be difficult to discern one from the other. Now, why don't you tell me why Jethro feels you are in need of my services again so soon?"

Tony told Ducky of the incident that took place earlier that night. Shaking his head ruefully, he instructed Tony to remove his sweater and to take a seat on the autopsy table while he retrieved his medical bag.

Ducky took the opportunity to check on Tony's other injuries, checking the stitches in his head wound, his pupil reaction and asking about the lingering headaches.

"I'm quite concerned about your colour, Anthony. You're very pale," Ducky noted. "You _are_ taking your pain meds? They will help with your headaches, you know."

"Umm, no, not really, Ducky," Tony answered. "They make me tired."

"Well, I should think that's the point!" Ducky huffed. "Are you sleeping at all, because you look like…"

"Crap?" Tony offered.

"Well, I was going to say you look like death warmed up, but…yes, crap seems to be an accurate description in this case!"

Tony's silence caused Ducky to look up from the blood pressure gauge he was reading. "Anthony? Are you alright?"

"I keep seeing her, Ducky." Tony would not meet Ducky's gaze but the elderly medic could hear the grief in his voice. "Every time I close my eyes or fall asleep, I hear Becky crying and then I see her and I see the blood. She looks at me and begs me to help her."

"Have you spoken to anyone, about this, Anthony?" Ducky asked worriedly.

"You mean, like the agency shrink?"

"God forbid! I know you better than that, my boy. Have you spoken to Jethro?" Ducky asked.

Tony would never consider speaking to Gibbs about this – not sober anyway. He knew that Gibbs would understand but revealing these dreams would be like baring his soul or exposing his weakness. Tony wasn't about to do that with anyone - especially Gibbs.

"I don't need to speak with anyone - honestly, Ducky, I'm fine," Tony replied. "Well, as fine as I can be. I'll be a lot better once we put this murdering SOB away forever or if I could close my eyes for 30 minutes without reliving Becky's death all over again or without waking up disoriented, in a cold sweat with my heart pounding and barely able to breathe…" Tony took a deep shuddering breath and turned back to Ducky with a disarming smile. "Okay, forget I said all that and just remember the 'I'm fine' stuff."

He slid himself from the Autopsy table and back into his clothes. "Gotta run, Doc, thanks!" he said, giving Ducky a crooked grin before running out to the elevator with an awkward gait.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony opened the door to Observation Room 2 and joined Ziva and McGee to watch the interrogation unfold. Gibbs was on his feet, circling the much larger, blonde man like a great white shark circles its prey.

"You okay, Tony?" McGee mumbled, holding an ice pack to his swollen jaw.

"Considering I just got body slammed into the sidewalk by Hulk Hogan there, yeah Probie, I'm peachy," Tony answered. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Ziva replied. "We are just getting started."

Gibbs had been his usual hard and uncompromising self during the interview. Despite the blonde man's intimidating bulk, he had crumbled under Gibbs' unrelenting questioning and searing stare. Maxwell told how an unknown man had driven to the guardhouse in a dark SVU with blackened windows. The man wore a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up over his ball cap, hiding much of his face.

The man explained that his girlfriend was in the car. She was the wife of a well-known politician and therefore, they could not be seen entering a motel or hotel. He offered Maxwell $500 to open one of the warehouses and "clear out" for three hours. Having a drug and gambling habit to support, Maxwell took the money and left. He swore he did not see or hear the child. He took the money, opened the door to warehouse 10B and went to O'Leary's to score.

He had only been back at the guardhouse for 15 minutes when Gibbs' sedan had sped past into the estate, followed by the coroners' truck and the EMTs. He did not know what had happened but he was high and he knew, with his criminal record, that he would be considered a suspect. So he ran. He was unable to provide a useful description of the man but he did agree to submit to provide a DNA sample for comparison purposes.

When the three agents stepped from the observation room, Gibbs was there to meet them.

"McGee, you and Ziva take Maxwell to the holding cells. Then, you go see Ducky about your jaw. Ziva, ask Abby to take the DNA sample," he instructed.

"DiNozzo! With me!" Gibbs hissed through a clenched jaw as he took hold of Tony's bicep and practically flung the younger man back into the observation room.

"What the hell, Gibbs?" The menacing tone of Tony's voice matched that of his team leader's and was enough to have the audio technician scurrying out the door, post haste.

"I thought I told you to stay in the car," Gibbs said, "was my instruction unclear, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"No, Sir, it was not!" Tony replied, straightening himself to his full height and meeting Gibbs' furious gaze with one of his own. "What was I supposed to do, leave McGee without back-up? Watch Maxwell run right by me?"

"You were supposed to follow orders, DiNozzo. Ziva and I were there within seconds," Gibbs continued in his best ex-Gunny bark.

"If Maxwell had been armed, seconds is all it would have taken for him to kill McGee!" Tony defended.

"He wasn't armed!"

"I didn't know that!" Tony was yelling now.

"Then why didn't you draw your own weapon?" Gibbs asked angrily.

The muscles in Tony's jaw tensed as he replied dangerously.

"Are you _really_ suggesting that I would purposely risk McGee's life just so I could get my hands on this guy?"

Gibbs threw his hands in the air. "Hell, DiNozzo, you tell me! At the moment, I don't know what to think! Maybe you decided to play vigilante and take this guy by yourself?"

Tony looked Gibbs in the eyes. "Wasn't that long ago that you did something similar, or has the name Ari Haswari conveniently slipped your mind?"

Gibbs stepped forward, pushing right into Tony's personal space. His voice was a low, dangerous whisper but his eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and concern.

"I did not disobey a direct order nor did I have a concussion and a fractured skull! Do you know what could have happened if you had hit your head? You could have died!! What you did was reckless and it could have cost your life."

Several tension filled moments passed with neither man giving an inch. Both men maintained a silence that was once so easy between them but was now crackling with hostility.

"I know you're frustrated about the case, Tony," Gibbs told him, "but you're on light duties for a reason and right now, you're about a hair's breadth from being placed on medical leave. Next time I give you an order, I expect you to carry it out, no matter what."

Normally, Tony would respond to such a reprimand with genuine regret and an undertaking never to repeat the offence. However, Gibbs was slightly taken aback when his senior field agent set his jaw once again and spoke through clenched teeth.

"If that is all, I'd like to leave now! I have a funeral to attend in a few hours."

He waited until Gibbs replied with a curt nod and he turned and headed for the corridor.

"Wait for me in the bullpen, I'll drive you home," Gibbs said.

Tony didn't reply and slammed the door of the observation room as he left.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Gibbs walked into the Autopsy room to find Ducky preparing to leave.

"Gotta minute, Duck?"

"Actually, Jethro, I was just heading out. It's been quite a long day," the doctor replied.

"It's important."

"Ah…in that case, why don't we go into my office and sit down?" Ducky suggested.

Ducky sat at his desk and watched as Gibbs paced furiously in front of him. Several minutes passed without Gibbs saying a word.

"If you're worried about young Timothy, his jaw is not broken, however, it is badly bruised. He should be fine in a day or too," Ducky said.

"What the hell's the matter with him, Duck?" Gibbs yelled as he vented his anger.

"Ah…I'm guessing you're referring to Anthony?" Ducky answered.

"I let him stay working on the case, despite concerns from you and the Director and he disobeyed a direct order that could have resulted in his or McGee's death." Gibbs scrubbed his face with his hand in weary frustration. "Then, when I called him on it, _he_ got pissed at _me_?? Am I missing something here, Duck?"

"I must admit, Jethro, Anthony has always had the maddening tendency to cut himself off from others when he's hurting, but the past few days have been very distressing for him," Ducky said "Have you tried to speak with him about how he's feeling?"

"Don't need to ask, Duck," Gibbs said. "He looks like crap, I know he's not sleeping and he's so hell bent on finding Becky's killer that he took on a 220lb suspect – alone – with a damn concussion and a fractured skull!"

"Yes, that was not what I had in mind when I cleared him for light duties," Ducky replied. "Fortunately, apart from some bruising to his ribs, he did not exacerbate his other injuries."

Gibbs dropped heavily into a chair. "I know Commander Barnes is a friend and DiNozzo's devastated over Becky's death but I've never known him to disregard an order or to be so reckless!"

Ducky was silent for a few moments. "I believe Anthony feels responsible for young Rebecca's death. That's why he's so overwhelmingly determined to find her killer."

"Responsible?? That's crazy!" Gibbs asked. "You said yourself that Becky's wounds were too severe and she would never have reached a hospital in time. How is DiNozzo responsible?"

"I explained that to him myself, Jethro, but he still believes he should have been able to do something else to help her," Ducky explained. "At the very least, he feels dreadfully guilty for promising the Commander and his wife that he would bring their daughter safely home. Perhaps Anthony would benefit from some medical leave after all? "

"Oh no, Ducky," Gibbs said. "In the mood he's in now, I want him right where I can see him. If he happened to get to this guy before we do, there's no telling what he'd do."

Ducky smiled wryly. "Just give him time, Jethro. He's more like you than you know."

"Why do you think I don't want him out of my sight," Gibbs said before hauling himself to his feet and leaving the office. "Night, Duck."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs strode back into the bullpen and immediately stopped by Tony's desk. Ziva and McGee were still working but his senior field agent was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's DiNozzo?" he barked.

"Left about 10 minutes ago, Boss," McGee advised. "Said to tell you that he'd get a cab."

Gibbs exhaled audibly and fought to retain his temper. He and DiNozzo had butted heads many times in the past but Tony never left the office before they had cleared the air. His stomach muscles constricted as Gibbs famous gut warned that there was more trouble ahead.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The funeral had been well attended. Pete & Helen were supported by their family, friends, colleagues from JAG and Helen's workplace who all offered their heartfelt condolences.

Gibbs seated himself at the back of the church and was a little surprised to see Tony join the Commander and Helen's two younger brothers as a pallbearer. Gibbs had misjudged the depth of Tony's friendship with Pete and his family. As they sombrely carried the small white coffin to the waiting hearse, Gibbs wondered whether it was the black suit that made Tony's face appear even paler than yesterday. The dark smudges under his eyes had certainly deepened.

With the service over the crowd of mourners had disbursed into smaller groups, leaving Pete & Helen and the Reverend still standing by the open gravesite. Becky's coffin was strewn with her favourite daisies. It had been a heart wrenching service -the senseless loss of a child's is one of life's most incomprehensible cruelties.

Gibbs knew many of the JAG personnel due to the close association of the two agencies. Rear Admiral Holmes, spoke briefly with Gibbs' about the progress of the investigation and left to pay respects to the family.

He stood alone for a few moments, his trained eye scanning the crowd for his senior field agent. Momentarily, he spotted Tony sitting alone on a bench, a noticeable distance from the other mourners.

Initially, Tony was startled to see Gibbs walking towards him, especially after their heated exchange several hours before. Then he realized that he should have expected Gibbs would come. He sat beside Tony in silent support. A flicker of grief fleetingly revealed itself in Gibbs' eyes as he thought of another eight year old girl whose life had been, brutally and tragically lost, many years ago.

By attending the service, Gibbs knew he would evoke painful personal memories but he had chosen to do so to lend support to Tony. This fact was not lost on the younger man.

"Boss?" Tony began.

Gibbs met his gaze, as Tony searched for words that would not come. His unsaid words spoke volumes and both men silently acknowledged a mutual respect and affection that rarely found its voice but was as constant and as sure as night following day. Gibbs cupped a hand around the back of Tony's neck and gave a gentle squeeze.

"You're welcome, Tony," he said quietly.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

After the service, Gibbs had driven Tony back to the office as he was still unable to drive, due to the lingering effects of his concussion. They entered the bullpen, to find McGee and Ziva both hard at work, files piled high on their desks. Both exchanged nods of support with Tony.

Tony looked around at the large number of boxes stacked between their desks.

"Boss, it will take months to process these files. We only have 7 days."

For the first time since they'd met working a case in Baltimore, Gibbs heard despondency and defeat in the voice of his senior field agent and saw the despair clouding his green eyes.

Gibbs sent Tony down to the lab, primarily to check results of the tests on the burnt out car, but he knew that Tony was in need of a little Scuito TLC and he hoped Abby could work her magic on Tony's disheartened spirit.

Abby's head bobbed in time to her loud music and Tony turned down the volume of the stereo so that he could speak with her without shouting.

"Tony!" she exclaimed. She wrapped him in a strong embrace and then stepped back to appraise him.

"My poor baby! McGee was right. You _do_ look like crap."

"Funny, how I _never_ get tired of hearing that!" Tony said sarcastically.

Abby gently punched Tony on the shoulder and placed both of her hands on her hips.

"You mock me 'cause I care?" She asked playfully before concern flooded back into her expressive eyes. "I'm worried about you Tony. You're pale and you've got this baggy, dark thing going on under your eyes. Kinda like me when I have a late night and go to bed without removing my eye makeup. Not that I'm suggesting for a minute that you wear makeup, Tony – although all of my male Goth friends do – but you're not Goth and you don't need makeup 'cause you're, like, totally hot without it – but I'm just saying that if…"

"I'm fine Abs," he replied, rubbing her arm gently. "What have got on the burnt out car?"

"Hmmm, straight down to business – very Gibbs-like but I much prefer your Tony impression." She smiled sadly. "I haven't seen him in a while and I miss him."

"Abs?"

"Okay, okay. We've got nothing, I'm afraid. The car from the warehouse was totally French-fried and an accelerant was used to ensure excessive temperature and maximum damage. I wasn't able to extract any prints, or DNA." She said wincing as she watched Tony's hands clench into fists in frustration. "I'm running some tests to try to identify the type of accelerant he used but that's going to take a while."

"My guess is that the car was wiped clean and then barbequed. Whoever this guy is, Tony, he's like, way smart!! I'd say that he's not only medically trained, but there's a good possibility that he's trained in forensics as well."

Tony's shoulders drooped visibly at Abby's report. SecNav's new directive to allocate a "cold case" status after two weeks, hung over Tony's head like an anvil. They desperately needed a break in this case.

"Abs, did you get anything from the hair samples?" he asked.

"Nothing helpful," Abby replied. "The shortness of the hair and lack of hair dye chemicals or trace elements used in hair gel or hair spray products would indicate that the hair comes from a male. However, the reduced melanocyte activity has caused the hair to go grey which gives us an age band of over 35."

"So, a male with greying hair over 35," Tony said. "Hell, Abs, that narrows our suspect list to about 80 million. 80 million and 1 if you include Gibbs! Did you test the hair for drugs?"

"I did," Abby said. "As you know, hair testing is considered accurate and can date back as far as 90 days. As hair grows out, any drugs used are encased in the hair shaft. Longer hair can reveal an individual's drug history spanning a longer period than shorter hair. There was evidence of unnatural chemicals in the hair, but the traces were so small that Major Mass Spec was unable to identify them. It could have been anything Tony, cold and flu tablet, vitamin supplement, tylenol or barbituates and narcotics. I don't have the equipment to determine that level of nano particles."

Wanting to comfort her friend, Abby gave Tony a hug and squeezed tightly.

"Don't you give up yet, Mister," she said. "This guy may be good but we're better. He'll make a mistake soon and this case will break wide open."

Tony nodded sullenly and broke from Abby's embrace. His head tilted as he noticed that she was wearing one plain red knee-high sock and one black sock with red vampire bats on it.

"Abs, do you realise that you're wearing odd socks?" Tony asked.

Abby looked at her feet and beamed a radiant smile at him. "As a matter of fact, I do know that, Tony," she said. "But you know what they say about odd socks."

"I didn't know they said anything about odd socks," Tony answered.

"Well, they do!" Abby replied. "They say it's a sign of an incredible intellect."

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment before he responded.

"I don't disagree about the incredible intellect Abs, but _I_ think it's a sign that you should turn the light on before you get dressed." He kissed her cheek before re-joining the team in the bullpen.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The team spent the remainder of the day and into the evening reviewing more of Commander Barnes' legal files. It was a painfully slow process. At 2100 hours Gibbs called for his agents to go home. He wanted to speak with the Director before he left, so he asked McGee to drop Tony at his apartment. Gibbs would call to collect him in the morning.

He watched as Tony shoved some additional files into his backpack for some extra work from home. He opened his mouth to object but thought better of it, waiting for a better time to broach the subject. The younger agents headed for home as Gibbs walked to the main lobby to await the arrival of his take-out order. Once it arrived, he tipped the delivery boy and made his way up the stairs to the Directors office.

As he opened the door to her office, Jenny looked at him over the top of her glasses. Her large mahogany desk was awash with case files and administrative papers.

"Time for a late supper, Director?" he asked.

"To tell you the truth, Jethro, I'd welcome the break," she sighed wearily and signalled for Gibbs to take a seat on the couch as they prepared their napkins and eating utensils and opened the food containers.

"Ooh, French cuisine, my favourite, but then you know that don't you?" she teased. "What makes me think this lovely gesture has more to do with asking a favour than reminiscing about days gone by?"

"It's this damn mandate SecNav has set." Gibbs was never one for small talk and was clearly irritated. "Two weeks per case, then move on – no exceptions! You know yourself, Jen, that's no way to run _any_ investigation."

"Yes, I know, Jethro, I met…." Jenny's sentence was cut off as Gibbs continued.

"My team has no new leads and just 7 days to review over 300 legal files that may have no relevance to these killings."

"Jethro, I agree that…."

"Meanwhile, my entire team, hell, _every _team in the agency, keeps looking over their shoulders as this ridiculous two week time-frame looms over all of us."

Jenny hesitated before speaking, unsure of whether Gibbs was going to let her enter the conversation at all. When she noticed him place a generous portion of food in his mouth, she began.

"I know, Jethro and I'm sorry," Jenny explained. "I met with SecNav this morning hoping to persuade him to review this decision."

"Why didn't you tell me??" Gibbs asked. "And??"

"And, he told me that if I can't ensure his directives are met, he would find someone who could. I believe he mentioned my Deputy, Leon Vance." Her voice held a mixture of bitterness and embarrassment. "You have 7 days to find a new lead or a "cold case" status will be allocated. I'm sorry, Jethro, it looks like you wasted this delicious Coquilles Saint-Jacques."

Gibbs opened the wine poured two glasses and took a small sip. He shrugged his shoulders. "Not a total waste!" he said.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

By the time McGee had dropped Tony at his apartment, it was nearly 2200. He kicked off his shoes, changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweats and made himself a cup of coffee to help get him through the night.

'_I'm turning into Gibbs!_' he thought. '_Just need a bad hair cut and a boat in the basement_.'

Waiting for the coffee to percolate, he opened his refrigerator door and allowed a small smile. He'd received another visit from his anonymous chef. Every day since his injury, a small airtight container had mysteriously appeared in his fridge. One contained spaghetti bolognaise, another beef stroganoff - each day a different meal and each with a neatly typed note explaining heating instructions. He lifted the lid of the latest arrival – pot roast. Tony had little appetite since Becky's death, but always felt obliged to have a little of each meal. After all, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure he was eating correctly.

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

**Flashback**

_Tony finished the last mouthful of his dessert. _

"_Mmmm, Helen, I swear you've outdone yourself tonight." He said, "The meal was wonderful."_

_Helen smiled gently. "Are you sure you've had enough Tony? There's plenty more!"_

"_Hey!" Pete protested, "He's already had two helpings of everything!"_

"_He's our guest," she said lightly slapping her husband on the arm. "Besides, it's Christmas and someone has to see that he eats something other than pizza, Chinese food and breakfast burritos!"_

"_Tony?" said Becky looking up from her dessert. "Why aren't you married?"_

"_Becky!" Helen exclaimed, "That's not polite!"_

_Becky looked confused "But Mommy, yesterday I heard you asking Daddy why Tony's not married."_

_Helen blushed. "Oops!" she said looking apologetically at Tony._

_Tony looked at Becky and answered in an exaggerated whisper. _

"_I'm not married, because I'm waiting for you to grow up.". _

**End Flashback**

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

He heated the pot roast in the microwave oven and placed a forkful in his mouth.

'_Has to be Ziva_.' He thought. '_McGee would bring Chinese, Abby ice cream and Gibbs pizza. Plus, Ziva would have no trouble picking the deadlocks on my front door!' _

What he couldn't work out is when she had the time to deliver it. He was with her 16 hours a day! He grinned at the thought of an apron wearing, Mossad trained assassin cooking for him. He found he could only manage a few mouthfuls and placed the rest back into the refrigerator.

Walking back into his living room, he opened his backpack and withdrew the 6 files he had brought from the office. He selected a file and started to read its contents with the dual purpose of finding a lead in the case and avoiding another nightmare plagued sleep.

It was 0330 before Tony surrendered to his exhaustion and fell asleep on his couch.

Like so many times during the past week, Tony's dreams began as pleasant memories before morphing into a vivid and horrifying re-enactment of Becky's death. Tonight was no different and Tony woke disorientated and sweaty with the throbbing pain in his head keeping pace with the rapid pounding of his heart.

He looked at the clock in his living room – 0420 hours. He groaned as he realized he'd been asleep for only an hour. His neck and back ached from his awkward sleeping posture so he headed for the shower hoping the hot water would ease the stiffness from his aching muscles.

He wasn't sure how long he'd stood under the steaming water but it must have been close to an hour. Certainly long enough for his fingers to wrinkle and the water temperature to become tepid. It was still very early and the sun hadn't yet made an appearance. Tony dressed for work and sat on the end of his bed. He still had at little time before Gibbs arrived to collect him. Lying back, he decided he would close his eyes for just a few moments.

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0oo-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

**Dream**

_It was Easter and Helen had insisted that Tony spend the day with them and join them for dinner. Becky grabbed Tony's hand and asked him to help her hunt for Easter Eggs in their backyard. _

_With her basket in one hand and Tony's hand firmly grasped in the other, she proceeded to drag him around, looking under every plant, flower, shrub and bush for the coveted chocolate eggs. _

_Pete and Helen laughed as they watched Tony surreptitiously eat his way through half of Becky's delicious haul until she turned suddenly to catch him with a mouth so filled with chocolate that he had no option other than to admit his guilt. After receiving a semi-serious scolding from Becky, he grabbed her in a hug and tickled her until she forgave him. _

_She squealed with delight and wriggled herself out of his grasp until they both lay on the lawn, recovering their breath. He looked down at her as she lay with her head on his chest. Her large brown eyes shined with joy and laughter then suddenly filled with pain and fear. Becky's delighted squeals suddenly became terrifying screams and her back arched as her body reacted to the piercing pain. Tony tried desperately to ease her pain and calm her. When he looked at her again, her eyes were lifeless and vacant._

**End Dream**

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

Tony leapt to his feet several seconds before he was fully awake; his eyes were wide and blinking rapidly. He recognised his bedroom and realised he had woken from another nightmare. He tried to calm his breathing and allow the deep, slow breaths to lead him away from the horror his mind kept replaying.

He looked at his watch and cursed as he saw the time 0603 – he was late and there was no doubt that Gibbs would be downstairs waiting for him. He pulled on his shoes, without bothering to tie the laces, slipped on his jacket and holstered his weapon. Hurrying through his living room he slung his backpack over his shoulder. Gathering the files and documents he clutched them haphazardly to his chest, locked the door behind him and headed quickly for the elevator. Fully aware of his Boss' obsession with punctuality, Tony didn't wait for the elevator doors to fully open before he burst between them, almost knocking Gibbs off his feet and dropping the documents he'd been carrying.

"Boss!" Tony gasped in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I know I'm late, it won't happen again. I was just…"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said loudly. "Take a breath. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

They collected the dropped papers and headed back to Gibbs' vehicle to begin their trip to the office.

Gibbs knew Tony was still suffering from night terrors. One look at his tired face and the lines of tension that creased his eyes, left little room for doubt. In the years he'd known him, Tony had always been susceptible to nightmares. Particularly when they had been assigned especially brutal cases or when he was injured or had worked himself to an exhausted standstill. Ducky had told him that Tony expelled so much energy holding his brash, over-confident façade in place that it was only in his sleep, when the façade was at rest, that any feelings of grief, fear, hurt or insecurity were free to express themselves.

They were almost at the Navy yard before Gibbs broke the silence.

"You okay?"

"Sure, Boss," Tony replied. "I just overslept a little, that's all."

"So, you _**are**_ actually sleeping?" Gibbs asked.

"Boss?" Tony answered innocently.

"Still having nightmares, Tony?" Gibbs asked calmly.

Tony didn't respond straight away and for a moment Gibbs thought he wasn't going to answer.

"Ducky ratted me out," Tony said resignedly.

"No, he didn't," Gibbs replied. "I just have to look at you to know you're not sleeping. I've been there myself. I know the signs."

"Boss, please," Tony almost pleaded. "I'll have plenty of time to sleep when we catch this bastard and put him away."

Gibbs considered this for a while then asked. "Ducky taking you back to the hospital for more scans?"

"Yep. Just after lunch," Tony answered. "I'm hoping to be cleared for active duty today."

"You think you're ready?" Gibbs asked.

"You don't?" Tony countered defensively.

"I'm no doctor but I think you could use some more time," Gibbs stated calmly.

"Well, that's part of the problem isn't it, Boss?" Tony snapped angrily. "Thanks to SecNav's freakin' new mandate, we don't have the luxury of time."

In the past, such an emotional outburst would have had the younger man apologizing to his team leader with a rueful grin. This time, however, Tony met Gibbs' furious gaze with one of his own and turned to look out of the window.

Although his face remained impassive, the normally unflappable Jethro Gibbs was troubled by the anger and ferocity in Tony's voice. Gibbs let him be but knew he'd never get used to the moody, distant version of his senior field agent. Secretly, he hoped that the doctors would extend Tony's light duties status. Gibbs knew he was hurting deeply and he preferred to keep Tony where he could keep a close eye on him – whether Tony liked it or not.

**-**oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Ducky entered the bullpen at precisely 1200 to escort Tony to Bethesda. When the younger man left without complaint, Gibbs noted it as another example of Tony not acting like Tony. Usually, unless DiNozzo was unconscious or losing volumes of blood, he would need to be ordered, threatened or carried kicking and screaming to a hospital.

Tony returned a few hours later with his fitness certificate in his hand. His sutures had been removed and x-rays had shown that his skull fracture was healing well. He showed no sign of the concussion except for lingering headaches and the doctors could see no reason why he could not return to full active duties. Ducky had concurred and signed his fitness certificate.

"Where's the Boss, Probie?" Tony asked, placing the certificate on Gibbs' vacant desk.

"You just missed him." McGee replied looking up from his computer. "He went for coffee."

Suddenly remembering that Tony had been at the hospital, McGee asked.

"So, how'd you go? Did the Doctors clear you for active duty?"

"Yep. I'm good to go," Tony replied taking a seat at his desk.

"You have been thoroughly scammed and x-rated. Yes?" Ziva asked.

Tony rolled his eyes and switched his computer on.

"Actually, Ziva," McGee corrected. "Tony was _scanned_ and _x-rayed. _He wasn't scammed or x-rated."

"That is not what the baggy bunnies in the Evidence Locker say," Ziva teased.

Tony was almost oblivious to the by-play of his partners who eyed him with concern as he selected another case file and immediately set about reviewing it. Ziva and McGee exchanged a worried glance before returning their attention to the files on their own desks.

Gibbs returned from his coffee run, surprising his team with a coffee for each of them. He knew how hard they were working to break this case. Minimum sixteen-hour days were becoming the norm as the team continued to work their way through the cartons of files. The task was proving to be not only mind numbing but also extremely frustrating and was taking its toll on them all. Quiet telephone and computer enquiries or the occasional call for assistance or guidance from one of the team, provided the only break in their collective silence as they worked well into another night.

McGee had been typing furiously for hours. Suddenly the constant tapping of his fingers on the keyboard stopped.

"Boss," he said. "I think I may be able to save us a lot of time with these files."

Tony, Ziva and Gibbs all looked in McGee's direction with great anticipation.

"Go on," Gibbs replied as the others closed in on McGee's desk to hear his idea.

"I've just finished writing a program that should stream-line our paper based search. You see, by aligning the parameters on the …"

Gibbs cut him off before McGee could finish his explanation. "How long, McGee?"

"At our current rate and with no other teams available to assist us, I estimate that it will take five to six weeks to review all of Commander Barnes' case files by hand."

"McGee!" Gibbs barked, causing the younger man to sit bolt upright. "How long?"

"Just getting to that, Boss," he replied, quickly turning his attention back to his computer and typing another series of commands. "By my calculations, we can reduce the time to…"

As the answer to his calculation appeared on his computer monitor, McGee was crestfallen. "Two to three weeks," he muttered.

Tony's laugh was without humour and his smile, uncharacteristically, without warmth. His barely concealed anger simmered dangerously close to the surface as he spoke.

"Tell me, McEinstein, how the _hell_ is that supposed to help us when we have just _six days_ to solve this case before the "cold case" status is applied?"

"Well, ah, I thought…" McGee abandoned his reply as Tony stepped menacingly into his personal space.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs' warning hung in the tension filled air for an uncomfortable moment. "Take a break, Tony. Now!"

Tony left the bullpen and stalked into the elevator, thumping the down button much more forcefully than was absolutely necessary.

"Well," said Ziva, "that was awkward. I will go after him?"

"No. Let him cool off," Gibbs replied, still watching the closed elevator doors.

"I'm sorry, Boss," McGee said sincerely. "I thought the program would be quicker than that. I really was trying to help."

"Not your fault, McGee," Gibbs answered.

Ziva continued to work at her desk, looking expectantly at the elevator doors each time they opened. Gibbs fingered Tony's fitness certificate. The doctors, including Ducky, had declared DiNozzo fit for active duty, effective immediately. Whilst Gibbs was very relieved to know that Tony's physical health had improved, he was more concerned about Tony's emotional state. He could read the tenseness in Tony's body language and could feel the frustration and anger building within the younger agent with each passing day. Gibbs decided to give Tony 15 minutes to himself before he went after him.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

McGee was quite shaken by the exchange with Tony. He had seen that kind of anger in Tony's eyes before but it was a look he usually reserved for murderers and other hardened criminal types. He was shocked that Tony had directed such a hateful look at him. For a fleeting moment, he thought Tony might take a swing at him. He had been so hopeful that his program would greatly streamline the enormous task of manually reviewing each file and he was very disappointed in the result. The tension in the bullpen was palpable so McGee took a short break and headed to the forensics lab looking for some solace.

"Hi, Abs," he said despondently as he entered the lab.

Abby spun around to face him and pulled him into a huge hug. "Timmy! I've missed you! I feel like I haven't seen you all day, because I actually haven't seen you all day but I have totally, totally missed you. Did you finish writing your computer program? Did it work? What am I saying – of course it worked - you're you. I wish I had been there to see Tony's reaction."

She frowned when McGee didn't answer her, despite the fact that she hadn't given him a chance. She pulled away to look at his face.

"What's wrong?" She asked. "Did something happen?"

"My program worked Abs, but it wasn't good enough. We still need two to three weeks to complete the review of the files," McGee explained. "Tony was….well, he was so upset I thought he was going to hit me."

"Tony would never hit you, Timmy!! He may tease you, make fun of you and make your life miserable but he would never ever hit you!! I'm sorry that your program didn't work. I know how hard you worked on it," Abby cooed sympathetically. "So, you came down here to hide for a while - to escape "_The Thing_."

McGee looked confused. "What's _The_ _Thing_, Abs?"

"You know, _"The Thing!"_ Abby said as if it were obvious. "The Tony being so hurt and grief stricken over Becky's death that he's determined to do whatever it takes to find her killer, even if it means working himself into the ground and yelling at everyone - even Gibbs – and Gibbs being so determined to keep Tony from getting hurt or into trouble that he's yelling at everyone too - but that's not so noticeable because he always yells – but Tony's being so stubborn that he doesn't see that Gibbs and his friends are trying to look out for him so he keeps yelling and disobeying orders and putting himself in harms way, - _that Thing_," Abby finished with a deep gasping intake of breath. "Whoa, head spins!"

"That's a long _Thing_, Abs," McGee said. "But I'm a grown man and an NCIS field agent and I assure you, I am not hiding from _"The Thing".._…I prefer to think of it as seeking refuge."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

When Tony hadn't returned after 15 minutes, Gibbs called Abby and Ducky to see if they had seen him. Both replied in the negative. He hadn't left the building because his jacket, weapon and backpack were still at his desk. Gibbs took the stairs to the gym and found Tony had changed into his gym clothes and was beating the stuffing out of the heavy bag. He had worked up quite a sweat, was breathing heavily and the bruising on his knuckles was becoming evident.

"You wanna work the bag you need to put some gloves on or you're gonna break your hands," Gibbs advised.

Tony didn't reply. He gave the bag one more almighty thump before letting it swing. Walking over to the equipment locker he grabbed a skipping rope. Tony began skipping at a brisk pace, expertly twisting the rope in his hands; skilfully crossing his arms backwards and forwards across his body; never missing a step and steadily increasing the speed of the rope until it was barely visible.

Gibbs leant on the wall watching in silence. He knew Tony had a world of frustration and anger to release and was pleased that he had shown restraint and sense enough to head for the gym rather than pound on someone's head. Finishing with the skipping rope, he spotted a basketball in the locker and headed for the hoop. His basketball prowess was still clearly obvious and Gibbs felt sure that Tony had lost very little skill since playing point guard for Ohio State.

Finally he missed a rebound and the ball bounced in Gibbs' direction. Gibbs picked it up, not returning it to Tony. He was breathing heavily now and momentarily placed his hands on his knees as he regained his breath.

"You done?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," Tony gasped, "for now."

"You know that McGee was only trying to help?"

"Yeah, Boss, I know," Tony said.

Gibbs threw the ball back to Tony. "It's late. Go home. Get some rest."

Tony nodded his head and headed for the showers.

Yep, there was definitely an eruption building and Gibbs needed to ensure that DiNozzo didn't self-destruct.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

For the next 48 hours Tony felt like he was trapped in Groundhog Day as each day had an infuriating sameness. Wake up from a terrifying, gut wrenching nightmare, go for a run to ward off the residual tremors, shower and go to work before sun up, spend the next sixteen to eighteen hours reviewing legal files, go home feeling disillusioned and desolate at the lack of progress in the case, find a mysteriously delivered meal in the fridge, eat a few bites, go to bed and fall into an immediate, exhausted sleep, wake up from a terrifying, gut wrenching nightmare…and so the cycle continued…..

Sitting back at his desk, Tony scrutinized every crime scene photo in case something was overlooked. The hours passed quickly and Tony was desperate to find anything that could assist them. He read the Cortez and Barnes files for the umpteenth time praying to notice something he hadn't seen before.

Gibbs' team continued to work long arduous hours, yet they were no closer to finding Becky's killer. Tony was angry, exhausted and frustrated with the lack of progress and uncharacteristically yelled and snapped at his teammates. Ziva and McGee both understood how upset Tony was and were being extra tolerant of his unusually belligerent behaviour.

To their utter amazement, Ziva and McGee both realized that they were missing the "DiNozzo factor." Even though he sat at his desk, mere feet from them, Tony wasn't Tony. There was no teasing, no movie references, no nicknames or assorted projectiles being thrown at them.

They came to understand that the constant irritations from the senior field agent, kept them sharp and focused on the job at hand, no matter what was going on around them. In the field, when taking fire or when all hell was breaking loose, remaining focused could save their lives. Of course, the same irritations often provided much needed levity when things were particularly tense.

The younger agents had also noticed that Gibbs had been particularly tolerant and patient with Tony since Becky's kidnapping. Both had seen him completing Tony's weekly admin reports to allow Tony additional time to work on the case. When Tony aimed one of his angry tirades directly at Gibbs, Ziva and McGee cringed and turned away, not wanting to witness the inevitable confrontation. They were astonished to hear Gibbs calm Tony in a firm, no-nonsense but understanding manner.

Both Ziva and McGee had found themselves unwilling targets in Gibbs' crosshairs on more than a few occasions during the last week and a half, and now understood just how much Tony deflected Gibbs' ire from them to himself. They were quietly impressed at Tony's constant ability to incur their team leaders' wrath and bounce back so quickly.

Gibbs had been called away to a much dreaded, compulsory team leaders meeting in the Director's office. Tony had just selected another case file from the carton near Gibbs' desk when the lead agent's desk phone rang and Tony answered. After a brief conversation he replaced the handset and spoke to Ziva and McGee.

"That was the MTAC Control Officer. Lieutenant Cortez is standing by to speak with the Boss via satellite. I'll speak with her myself." Tony was heading for the stairs as he added. "If the Boss gets back, I'll be in MTAC."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony paced the floor in MTAC waiting for the satellite link to be established with Lieutenant Cortez aboard the USS Princeton.

'_Please let this be the break we're looking for,_' he said to himself as he nervously fingered his headset.

The MTAC Control Officer signalled to him and the large screen filled with the image of Lt Connie Cortez.

"Lieutenant Cortez. I am Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Special Agent Gibbs is currently unavailable," Tony advised.

Tony offered his condolences on the loss of her daughter and told her of Becky's murder. He explained that they believed the same person had murdered both girls. He had arranged for photos of Commander Barnes, Becky and Allan Maxwell to be emailed to the Princeton in case she recognized them. The Lieutenant did not recognize anyone in the photos.

"Lieutenant, can you think of anyone who would want to harm you or your daughter?"

"No, Sir," she replied. "Christina was a good girl. She was well liked, a good student and a wonderful daughter." The pain of her loss was very evident as her eyes filled with tears and she chewed her bottom lip in an effort to regain her composure.

"I know this is very difficult, Lieutenant, I'm sorry," Tony said. "You have been in the Navy for 25 years, is that right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"As an officer and a section leader, I'm sure you have had occasion to bring disciplinary procedures against other seamen," Tony continued.

"Yes, Sir," she nodded in confirmation.

"Has there been any occasion where someone has threatened to harm you as a result of the disciplinary action?" Tony hadn't noticed Gibbs slip in the door to MTAC and stand behind him.

"No, Sir, not that I can think of," Cortez replied. "I'm sorry, I'm not much help."

Tony's frustration levels were again on the rise as he asked. "Lieutenant, have you ever had any dealings with JAG?"

The Lieutenant contemplated the question for a moment before answering.

"Yes, but it was a long time ago, I'm sure it wouldn't relate to my daughter's death," the Lieutenant replied.

"We'd be grateful for anything you can remember, Lieutenant," Tony assured her.

"Ten years ago, I was serving on the Normandy in the Persian Gulf when I witnessed our ship's surgeon selling drugs and medical supplies to local black marketers," she continued. "The drugs and supplies were stolen from the infirmary. I reported him, he was arrested and served time in Leavenworth."

"Did you testify against this man, Lieutenant?"

"No, Sir," Cortez replied. "I provided a written statement and was advised that I would be required to act as a witness at the hearing but I believe he pleaded guilty prior to the trial and accepted a lesser sentence. My testimony was never required."

"What was the name of the ship's surgeon?"

"Commander Joseph Stevens." She replied.

"Did you know Commander Stevens well?" Tony asked

"I wouldn't say well but we often ran into each other in the officers mess. Not much privacy on a Naval vessel, Sir. He seemed to be a quiet, caring man, I mean; he was a qualified physician and surgeon so he cared about people. But he kept to himself mostly."

"This man never threatened to harm you or your family in any way, either at the time of the arrest or at anytime afterwards?" Tony asked

"No, Sir, never. The Navy went to great lengths to keep us apart until they could transport him back to Norfolk, so we never spoke. From what I understand, he didn't put up a fight when he was arrested and didn't threaten anyone."

"Due to the seriousness of the offence, JAG was involved, correct?"

"Yes, Sir," The Lieutenant replied. We were in the Persian Gulf, so the Navy flew in two JAG officers. One to take my statement and the other to act as Defence Attorney to Commander Stevens."

"Were either of these JAG officers Commander Peter Barnes?" Tony asked, hoping to connect to the two murders.

"No, Sir," Cortez replied. "The JAG officer who took my statement was a female officer. I'm sorry, I don't remember her name and I think the other JAG officers name was…… Commander Walters."

The MTAC Control Officer signalled Tony again, they were just about to lose the satellite. Tony nodded his acknowledgement.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, you have been very helpful," Tony said. "Please let me know if you can think of anything else that may be useful. Once again, please accept my deepest sympathies for the loss of your daughter. We will keep you apprised of any developments in the case."

The satellite connection went dead. Tony removed his headset and almost ploughed into Gibbs in his haste to get back to the bullpen.

"Boss!" Tony said, eyes wide with surprise. "I didn't know you were here. Why didn't you say something?"

"Nothing to say, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied heading for the door. "You seemed to have things covered pretty well."

"This could be it, Boss!" Tony said excitedly. "This could be the break we need."

"Then what are you standing here for? Get your ass downstairs and let's follow this up!" Gibbs said with mock sternness.

Tony flashed a genuine smile and headed for the bullpen. Gibbs was on his heels grateful to see the gleam back in the younger man's eyes and the confident spring in his step that had been missing since Becky's kidnapping.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo000oo--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Back in the bullpen, Gibbs relayed details of Tony's conversation with Lieutenant Cortez to Ziva and McGee. Now that the case had some direction, the atmosphere in the bullpen almost pulsated with anticipation.

While Tony sought information on the former doctor's Navy records, Ziva began a background check and McGee gathered details of his prison records and terms of parole. Gibbs took the opportunity to head out for another coffee, instructing his three subordinates to have their information ready by the time he returned.

Gibbs returned 30 minutes later with Caf-Pow for one and coffee for five as he had called Ducky and Abby to join the briefing in the bullpen.

Ziva's background check revealed that Joseph Stevens was born 48 years ago in Boston to a wealthy family. In continuance of a family tradition, he studied medicine at Harvard and became a surgeon. He veered from family tradition 25 years ago by refusing to join the family's large medical corporation and joining the Navy.

According to Tony's enquiries into Navy records, Stevens had a spotless service record as an excellent Navy surgeon. He had received several commendations from various CO's during his 15 years of service. Two years prior to his dismissal from the Navy, his CO began receiving complaints about bouncing checks and requests to garnishee Stevens' Navy income but as he was a top-notch officer and surgeon, he only received a rap over the knuckles.

It wasn't until Lieutenant Cortez filed charges that further investigation revealed that Joseph Stevens had a serious gambling problem. He had built up extremely large debts with some illegal gambling syndicates, including over 30 thousand dollars to Kleavon Young – who runs an illegal gambling house and a nightclub on the south side.

Stevens resorted to the misappropriation and sale of Navy pharmaceuticals, medical supplies and equipment to various foreign black market operations to raise the money needed to pay off the gambling debts. He pleaded guilty to all charges, was de-registered as a doctor in every state of the US, was dishonourably discharged and sentenced to 16 years in Leavenworth.

McGee reported that, according to records at Leavenworth, Stevens was a model prisoner. There were problems with other prisoners in the early stages of his incarceration, resulting in Stevens being beaten on four occasions and admitted to the prison infirmary. This stopped suddenly after six months when he supposedly formed an alliance with some of the more feared prisoners and was placed under their "protection." Approximately 5 years after his internment, his marriage of 15 years ended and his wife was awarded sole custody of his children. He was released 6 months ago for good behaviour after serving 9 years of a 16year term. His parole officer advised that he was meeting all terms of his parole until he stopped reporting in approximately 2 months ago.

"A few weeks before Christina Cortez was murdered," Ziva stated.

"Hmmm," Ducky said rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If I may venture an opinion, Mr Stevens does not sound like a murderer to me. In fact, the incidences of reported violence in his history, place him as the victim not the perpetrator."

"Ducky's right," McGee said. "We have nothing that indicates that Stevens is capable of committing murder."

"When faced with the right set of circumstances, anyone can become desperate enough to commit murder - even you, Timmy. Plus, as a surgeon, Stevens would be more than capable of inflicting the types of wounds suffered by both victims." Abby ventured.

"Think about that, McGee." Gibbs said. "Since his arrest, he has been dishonourably discharged from the Navy, de-registered as a doctor across the country, served 9 years in prison, lost his marriage and his family, his career and livelihood. He was beaten badly enough to place him in hospital four times and for all we know, still has unpaid gambling debts to contend with."

"These illegal gambling syndicates do not forgive debts because of a prison sentence, McGee," Ziva explained. "They will have been waiting for him to get out to collect what he owes them." McGee nodded his head in acceptance.

"Allow me to play the Devil's Advocate for a moment," Ducky said. "Even though we can now link Mr Steven's to the Cortez family, we have nothing that links him to the Barnes family and dear Rebecca."

"Don't be too sure, Doc," Tony replied. Until now, none of them had appeared to notice that Tony had returned to his desk, feverishly typing into his computer and flicking through a case file.

"You got something, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"I got something, Boss," Tony confirmed. He stood and walked to the others.

"When I spoke with Lieutenant Cortez, she said that the Navy had flown JAG officer Commander Walters to the Normandy to act as Defence Attorney for Stevens. However, according to JAG records, Commander Walters was granted extended personal leave immediately upon his return and the case was reassigned to …… Commander Peter Barnes."

"There is our connection," Ziva stated.

"Wait," McGee asked. "Why couldn't Commander Barnes or Lieutenant Cortez recognize each other from the photo you showed them?"

"Because they never met, Probie!" Tony answered. "Stevens pleaded guilty to a lesser sentence and the case didn't go to trial."

All eyes turned to Gibbs. "That still doesn't mean he killed these girls but…."

"_Come on, Boss!" _Tony started to protest.

"As I was saying, DiNozzo," Gibbs continued. "It does give us probable cause and enough to bring him in for questioning. Find him."

Abby and Ducky left for their respective departments while Gibbs' team started their computerized searches for any information that would lead them to the whereabouts of Joseph Stevens.

McGee hung up from his phone conversation and looked at Gibbs who was seated at his own desk.

"Boss," he said. "According to his parole officer, Stevens has been living in a half-way house on Springdale Ave since his release from Leavenworth. I just spoke to the manager there. He said he hasn't seen him in over two months so he let his room to somebody else."

"DiNozzo?"

"Parole Officer helped Stevens get a temp job as a bookkeeper," Tony stated. "He hasn't shown up for work for seven weeks. Employer assumed he moved on and hired someone else. Employer said he remembered Stevens saying he may have another job, better pay and full-time, but he didn't give any details."

"Ziva?"

"I may have something," Ziva said. "I spoke with Stevens' ex-wife, a Lisa Stevens. She said that despite Stevens' jail record, he has never missed an alimony or child support payment. She receives a payment every week by automatic transfer."

"But Stevens' bank records show that his account hasn't activated for two months?" McGee stated.

"Someone is paying it. Trace the source of the funds, McGee," Gibbs instructed.

"On it, Boss," he replied.

Ziva continued with her report. "Mrs Stevens said that since his release from Leavenworth six months ago, Stevens has made a point of attending his daughter's ballet lesson and his son's soccer games every week. She said that despite the marital problems he has always been a wonderful father and they were even discussing reinstating his joint custody."

"How does this help us?" Tony asked.

"Mrs Stevens said that he stopped attending the ballet and soccer approximately seven weeks ago," Ziva replied.

"Sounds like he totally dropped of the grid seven weeks ago, Boss," McGee added.

"Except for one thing," Ziva continued. "Mrs Stevens swears she has seen him parked across from her house or the children's school. She says she saw him standing in the distance at one of his son's soccer games and when she tried to approach him, he ran away."

"When was that?" Tony asked.

"Last Thursday, only 6 days ago." Ziva replied. "That appears to be the most recent sighting of him."

"Could be he's hiding from someone," Tony said. "Maybe I should go talk to Kleavon Young? If Stevens is into him for 30 big ones plus 9 years interest, he'd definitely have people on the street looking for him."

"You know this Kleavon Young, Tony?" Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded. "He started out in Baltimore before he moved to Washington and expanded his operation," he explained. "I busted him a few times. He's a tough SOB though. If Stevens owes him, you can bet Young will find him."

Before Gibbs could answer, his desk phone rang. He replaced the receiver and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll be with the Director." He said pausing in front on Tony's desk.

"See what you can find out from this Kleavon Young. Ziva, go with him." He instructed. As he watched Tony launch himself from his chair he added. "DiNozzo, just talk, we've got nothing on this guy."

"Yes, Boss," Tony replied, almost sprinting for the elevator.

"McGee, keep tracing the source of those funds. I want to know who is paying Stevens' alimony."

McGee nodded his head, acknowledging with an, "On it, Boss."

As Ziva made her way past Gibbs to the elevator, he grabbed her arm and leaned in close to whisper, "You watch his six."

"Of course," she replied giving him a quizzical look.

Gibbs had a nagging feeling in his gut as he watched them enter the elevator.

"Boss?" McGee asked, noting the look of concern on the team leaders face.

"I'll be upstairs, McGee," he said before striding towards the staircase.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva glanced at Tony as he drove towards the south side of the city. He was still pensive and broody, a far cry from his usual cheerful and out-going self.

Although they had been working this case together for at least sixteen hours a day for the last 11 days, Ziva was grateful to spend some one on one time with her partner.

Though it usually drove her up the _hall,_ Ziva missed his teasing, his bragging and his tormenting. She missed the flirtatious looks, the endless movie references and the Cheshire Cat grin. She missed the light distraction he brought to the most horrific, heartbreaking cases. She missed him.

She chanced another glance at him and wondered what Gibbs had meant when he told her to watch Tony's six. He looked pale and tired but he had been cleared for active duty. She had been Tony's partner for almost three years now. She did not need to be reminded to watch his six. What did Gibbs see that she didn't?

"Are you okay, Tony?" She asked tentatively.

"I'm fine Ziva," he replied flatly.

"You know this Kleavon Young, yes?"

"Yeah," he replied. "We go way back."

"If his gambling establishment is illegal, how do you know where he will be?" Ziva asked.

"He owns a Nightclub on the south-side. He's there most nights."

"I see," Ziva said. "Should we expect trouble?"

"Only if he doesn't give me what I want," Tony said his voice quiet and threatening.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

It was only seven-thirty when Tony and Ziva arrived at Lunar Nightclub, but already there was a long queue of people waiting to be admitted. Tony and Ziva nudged their way to the front of the line; oblivious to the protests and irritated faces they left in their wake. Reaching the front of the line, they flashed their ID to the two large doormen who reluctantly let them in.

The large, garishly decorated venue was packed to capacity. People were standing five deep at the bars and hundreds of others squeezed onto the dance floor. They waited a moment to allow their senses to adjust to the strobe lighting, the blaring music.

A buxom waitress approached through the crush of people. She flashed a dazzling welcoming smile and eyed Tony appreciatively. Her smile dissolved quickly when Tony held his badge and ID in front of her face.

"We're here to see Kleavon Young," Tony said.

The waitress looked around as if unsure what to do. She made eye contact with the bartender, who had been watching Tony and Ziva since they arrived. The bartender nodded and the waitress pointed them in the direction of the private staircase and large expansive one-way windows situated at the top of the stairs.

Tony and Ziva pushed their way through the sea of dancers on the dance floor and climbed the stairs to the private office. As they approached, the door opened and a large African-American man placed himself in their path with, seemingly, no intention of moving.

"We're here to see your Boss," Tony said flashing his ID. "NCIS. Special Agent DiNozzo and Officer David."

"Mr Young is busy," the large man said. "You'll have to come back later."

"Sure," Tony said agreeably. "Tell _Mr Young _that we'll be back with our friends from Metro PD and the DEA. You want to know how many kids lining up at the bar are under age? I suppose you didn't notice the two dirt bags sitting in the far booth dealing ecstasy and crack to your clientele. I believe the Alcohol Licensing Board would be very interested in _Mr Young's_ total disregard of his duty of care. They'll close this place down before the end of the week."

Tony and Ziva turned back towards the staircase when the office door opened and another voice rang out.

"Detective DiNozzo, it's been a long time." Kleavon Young was a tall thickset African-American man. He was particularly handsome and dressed impeccably in an expensive Armani suit.

"Actually, it's Special Agent DiNozzo, Kleavon and this is my partner Officer David," Tony replied.

"I heard you joined the Feds, DiNozzo. I see your taste in women is as exquisite as ever," Young said leering predatorily at Ziva who returned his look with icy disdain.

"I need some information, Kleavon," Tony advised.

Young laughed humourlessly. "Only you would have the balls to ask for a favour, two minutes after threatening to close me down. You haven't changed DiNozzo, still all mouth and bluff."

"As I recall, Kleavon, the last time you called my bluff you spent the next 3 to 5 years in the Maryland Correctional Facility, trying not to drop the soap in the shower," Tony replied.

Young's expression hardened as he turned back towards his office. "We're done here. I trust you can find your way out."

"I'm sure we can," Tony agreed then turned to Ziva. "Officer David, call our friends at DEA and Metro PD. Ask them to meet us at the front of the club." Turning back to Young he said. "If I were you, Kleavon, I'd start stocking up on soap-on-a-rope!"

Young stopped in his tracks and exhaled loudly. "What do you want, DiNozzo? I'm busy."

Tony removed a photo of Stevens from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"I want Joseph Stevens," Tony said handing the photo to Young.

"Don't know him," Young lied.

"That's not what we have heard," Ziva said. " Our sources say that Stevens owes you in excess of thirty thousand dollars."

"Your sources are wrong," Young answered, devouring Ziva with a look that made her skin crawl. "I don't know him and he owes me nothing."

"Come on, Kleavon!" Tony prompted. "We're talking over thirty gee's here. Since when have you walked away from that kind of action?"

"Speaking of action," Young said, openly undressing Ziva with his eyes and noticing her Star of David pendant. "I'll bet your pretty partner here is up for all kinds of action, right Tony? I'll make you a deal; I'll share if you share. I've never had a Jewess before. I bet she's wild in bed, isn't she Tony?"

Ziva watched the handsome face of her partner harden, his lips curled into a snarl.

"Hey baby, if you ever get sick of this I-talian and want a real man," Young continued to goad. "You move your fine little ass into my bed."

Ziva was more than capable of dealing with the likes of Kleavon Young. She took a small step forward and opened her mouth to respond when Tony let go a right cross that almost knocked Young off his feet.

"Tony! No!" Ziva yelled.

Young was momentarily dazed but lunged at Tony and drove him back against the wall. He brought his head forward quickly and it struck Tony a painful blow to the face. Tony felt the warm sticky blood cascade from his nose and hoped he didn't have another broken bone to explain to Gibbs and Ducky.

The large bodyguard appeared at the doorway and moved in to assist his employer until he noticed Ziva's gun pointing at his head.

"I would not move if I were you," she said in a tone that left no doubt that she was deadly serious.

Landing another well-placed blow to Young's solar plexus, Tony flung the man against the office door and twisted his arm behind his back with enough force to cause Young to scream in pain. He shoved the photo in front of Young's face a second time hissing dangerously.

"Let's try this again, Kleavon. Do you know this man?"

"Yes," Young answered through gritted teeth.

"He owes you money?" Tony asked.

"No."

"Wrong answer," Tony said applying more pressure to Young's arm.

"Argh! I'm telling you the truth," Young cried. "He did owe me money but his debt has been paid."

"All of it?" Tony asked with surprise.

"All of it. Thirty thousand dollars plus another twenty thousand in interest," Young said.

Tony relaxed his grip a little. "How'd he get that kind of money? He's only been out of Leavenworth for 6 months."

"I don't know," Young gasped.

"Not good enough, Kleavon," Tony said twisting the arm to the point of dislocation.

"Argh! I didn't even see him," Young said. "I haven't seen him since before he was sent to Leavenworth."

"So who paid off the debt and when?"

"It was about two months ago. I swear I don't know who they were. They had cash, they paid the entire debt and they looked a hell of a lot like G Men," Young answered.

"FBI?" Ziva asked exchanging a surprised glance with Tony.

"Don't know…maybe," Young replied. "I'm telling you the truth. All I wanted was my money. I didn't care who paid the bill. That's all I know, I swear."

Tony leant in close to Young's ear, his voice low and threatening.

"I believe you owe my partner an apology," He said.

Young's silence spoke of his reluctance to apologize. Tony twisted his arm further.

"Argh!! Alright!!" Young yelled. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, alright?? Let me go!"

Tony released Young's arm and shoved the man towards his office. Ensuring that Ziva was already moving towards the stairs he followed her and they left the Nightclub.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Once they were safely in their vehicle, Ziva gave Tony a handful of tissues for his bleeding nose.

"You could have broken his arm," she told him.

"Then we're even," Tony replied flatly, "because he could've broken my nose."

"How did you know about the people selling crack in the back of the club?" she asked.

"I was right?" Tony exclaimed with mock surprise.

They were halfway back to the office before Ziva spoke again.

"Tony, I am worried," she ventured.

"I'm worried too, Ziva," he said slightly irritated. "This is a Dolce & Gabbana shirt and these blood stains will never come out."

Tony reached down and switched the radio on, shutting down any chance of a serious conversation. They sat in silence for the rest of the return trip to the Navy yard. As they entered the elevator to take them to the bullpen, Tony pressed another button to stop the car at the gymnasium level.

At Ziva's quizzical glance he replied. "I'll meet you upstairs. I need to go to my locker and change my shirt."

"You have clean shirts in your filing cabinet, no?" Ziva asked.

"Yes, I do, but if Gibbs sees all this blood, I'll be back freezing my ass on one of Ducky's tables," Tony answered.

The elevator stopped at the gymnasium level but before Tony could exit Gibbs appeared in front of him blocking his path. Gibbs' expression was set in stone as he looked from Tony's blood stained shirtfront, to his bruised knuckles and back to meet Tony's eyes. He continued to walk towards him, backing the younger man up against the elevator wall.

"Ziva, take the stairs," Gibbs said. Giving Tony a small sympathetic smile, Ziva quickly departed and headed for the stairs.

The elevator doors closed and Gibbs flicked the power switch, trapping them between floors. They stood facing each other in the muted light.

"What happened?"

"We went to see Kleavon Young," Tony replied. "He told us that Stevens' loan had been repaid in full about 2 months ago. He doesn't know who paid it off but he thinks it may have been the FBI or another Government agency."

Gibbs didn't respond so Tony continued.

"I was thinking, Boss, if McGee can trace who's paying Stevens' alimony, that may lead us to who paid his gambling debts."

Gibbs continued to stare at Tony, fighting his urge to smack him at the back of the head.

"Is he in a holding cell downstairs?" Gibbs asked.

"Who?"

"Who do you think, Bonehead? Young!"

"Oh…Not exactly," Tony told him.

Gibbs eyed Tony suspiciously. "He assaulted a federal agent, DiNozzo. You telling me that you didn't bring him in?"

"No, Boss. I didn't bring him in," Tony said quietly.

"Why not?"

"Because….. I assaulted him first," Tony admitted. "I knew he was holding out on us about Stevens."

"So you _hit_ him?" Gibbs said, keeping his voice to a dull roar.

"Yes, I hit him!" Tony said lifting his chin defiantly. "We're running out of time, here. Three more days and this becomes a cold case. I can't let that happen."

"You may not have any choice if you get yourself suspended for excessive force, DiNozzo! What the hell were you thinking??

Tony watched Gibbs struggle to regain his composure. He knew that, once again, he had managed to piss his Boss off royally. Gibbs flipped the power back on and punched the button to the Autopsy level.

"Oh Boss, please!" Tony said. "It was just a bloody nose, I'm fine."

"That's for Ducky to decide." Gibbs replied, turning away from Tony to face the elevator doors. Tony opened his mouth to protest but Gibbs beat him to the punch.

"Don't even think about it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said curtly. "You've just had a serious head injury – it's Ducky or the ER – your choice."

"Ducky," Tony answered his voice barely above a whisper. "Boss, you think I'll get suspended?"

"Go see Ducky and get cleaned up," Gibbs said rubbing his hands over tired blue eyes. "I'll go and see the Director and see if I can head this off."

Tony nodded sullenly as the door opened on the Autopsy level. He was about to exit the elevator when he turned back to Gibbs.

"Do you think another Agency could be involved in this?"

"I don't know, Tony," Gibbs said as the elevator doors began to close. "But I intend to find out."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Director Shepard removed her glasses and tossed them on the file she had been reading and exhaled loudly.

"This is exactly what I was afraid of Jethro." She rose to her feet and began to pace. "I asked you if you thought DiNozzo should be removed from this case because of his personal involvement and you said no."

"I did," Gibbs said calmly, nodding his head in agreement.

"I asked you if you thought DiNozzo could remain focused and you said yes."

"He is focused. Nobody wants this case resolved more than Tony," Gibbs reinforced.

"And now we're facing possible legal action because I let you talk me out of assigning this case to another team," Jenny said. "I'm sorry Jethro, I'm going to have to stand him down pending an internal investigation into the matter."

Gibbs thoughtfully pursed his lips. "That's a little extreme isn't it Jen? We don't even know that Young will lay charges."

"I'm not the bad guy here Jethro, it's SOP in these matters."

"You're the one who's been whining about being short-handed, Jen," Gibbs said. "Suspending DiNozzo's not going to help matters."

"Then tell me Jethro, how would you handle this situation?"

"I'll write him up," Gibbs said. "I know DiNozzo better than anyone. He knows he screwed up. A formal reprimand in his file will work as well as any suspension."

"And if Young decides to press charges?"

"We'll face it if it happens," Gibbs said.

Jenny stood in quiet contemplation. "See to it," she said watching as Gibbs turned towards the office door. "And Jethro? DiNozzo's your responsibility – watch him closely."

Gibbs nodded and left the office.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

Having survived another long examination and an even longer admonishment from Ducky, Tony had changed his shirt and rejoined Ziva and McGee in the bullpen.

All three were fully aware that Tony's altercation with Young may result in his suspension from active duty and they anxiously awaited Gibbs return from the Director's office.

"Probie! Did you find out who's paying Steven's alimony?" Tony asked.

"Still working on it, Tony," McGee said. "Whoever it is has really covered their tracks. Normally, we could trace the funds quite easily, but this program is so sophisticated that as the funds travel electronically, the system erases all evidence of the path it took. I'm trying to build a program that will detect and reinstate any information recently deleted but…it's going to take some time to track it down."

"You'd need a pretty sophisticated computer system to cover your tracks like that, right?"

"Absolutely," McGee nodded emphatically. "This is no ordinary system. This has to have been done with state of the art technology that is not available to the public."

"Young said he thought Stevens' gambling debt was repaid by one of the agencies. Think he was right?"

"It would explain the level of technology used," McGee answered.

They had turned their attention back to the files on their desks when Gibbs arrived back into the bullpen. As he strode back to his desk he felt the tension in the air and the eyes of all three agents on him.

"McGee! Any luck with the trace?" He said sitting at his desk and retrieving Tony's personnel file from his filing cabinet.

"Not yet Boss. It's a complex system. It could take hours," he answered.

"Can you hook that up to your PDA thingy, too?" he asked.

"Already have, Boss."

"Good. Let me know as soon as you get a hit," Gibbs said. "Go home people, it's late. We'll start again at 0630."

All three younger agents sat stock still, waiting for Gibbs to advise the outcome of his meeting with the Director. It quickly became obvious that he was not in the mood to share when Gibbs leapt to his feet and bellowed.

"Was my last statement unclear? Go home – now!"

They quickly shut down their computers and grabbed their gear. They were heading for the elevator when Gibbs voice sounded again.

"Not you, DiNozzo."

Tony's expression was one of resignation as he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. Opening his eyes, he exchanged a few quiet words with Ziva and McGee and turned back to stand in front of Gibbs' desk. In the awkward silence, Tony offered his weapon and badge to Gibbs.

"How long?" he asked quietly.

"Secure your weapon, you're not suspended," Gibbs told him. "But make sure you have your head on straight in the morning. Another screw-up like that and we'll both be on suspension."

"That's it?" Tony asked hopefully.

"No. That's not it," Gibbs replied. "I'm writing you up. There'll be a formal reprimand in your file by morning. If Young decides to lay charges, there will be a full internal investigation."

Tony nodded silently and his eyes were downcast. Gibbs knew that the formal reprimand in his file would hurt him deeply. For all his frat-boy antics, he took his job and his record very seriously. Gibbs studied the drawn, tired face of his senior field agent. He doubted that he had more than 36 hours sleep since this case began 11 days ago. Gibbs walked around and perched himself on the front of his desk. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked at his agent.

"How many times have I told you, that you need to keep your fists in your pockets and your feelings out of the way?"

"Sorry, Boss."

"It's 2230. Go home Tony. Get a decent night's sleep. I don't care how you do it, take a damn sleeping pill if you have to but get some sleep," Gibbs told him.

Tony nodded his head and turned towards the elevator. He took three paces before he stopped and turned to face Gibbs again.

"Thanks Boss," His voice was quiet but the depth of his sincerity was obvious.

"Go," Gibbs replied. Reaching for his cell phone, he pressed speed dial 6. He listened impatiently to the recorded message and at the tone left a message.

"Tobias, it's me. Call me when you get this. It's important."

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo-**

At 0530 the following morning, Gibbs arrived at the Navy yard with his usual large Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand. The sun was still thinking about rising and the distinct winter chill hung thickly in the air.

'_It's definitely snowing nearby',_ he thought as he zipped his jacket and pulled the collar higher to protect him from the biting wind.

After greeting the security guards in the lobby and passing through the compulsory weapons screens, he entered the elevator that would deliver him to his office and to the mountain of paperwork that awaited him.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the muted lighting and relative quiet that was normal in the bullpen at such an early hour. As he made his way to his desk, Gibbs was both surprised and annoyed to see his senior field agent asleep at his workstation.

It was well known to Gibbs that Tony often came back into the office late at night to complete a report or to follow a lead. However, Gibbs had hoped that Tony would take heed of his advice and to catch up on some rest. Obviously he had not.

Tony's head rested on his arms, a number of files and reports were scattered over his desk.

"Tony," he said softly, placing his hand on Tony's forearm. "Tony?"

Tony startled awake, arms flailing defensively and almost knocking the coffee cup from Gibbs' hand.

"Hey, it's me, take it easy," Gibbs called.

It took a few seconds for Tony to orient himself to his surroundings.

"Sorry Boss," he said. "I must have dozed off."

"Ya think? When I told you to get a good nights sleep, I didn't mean at your desk!" Gibbs chided. "How long have you been here?"

Tony scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Not sure, what time is it?"

"0540." Gibbs replied.

"A few hours, I guess," he said. "I tried to sleep, Boss but I just kept thinking that we only have two days left to find this Stevens guy before the cold case classification takes effect. I came in early to get started on some more files."

Gibbs internally cursed the ridiculous mandate. He could see his senior field agent burning out before him and felt powerless to stop it.

"We're gonna get this guy, Tony and I'm gonna need you at your best, not dragging your tired ass around. Is that clear?"

Tony nodded his head slowly. "Yes, Boss."

"Take a break, grab some breakfast. I don't want to see you back here for at least an hour." As Tony opened his mouth in protest he said more emphatically. "Breakfast! Go!"

Gibbs checked the messages on his cell for the forth time that morning. Nothing.

'_Where the hell are you, Tobias?'_ he thought.

Picking up the receiver of his desk phone, he dialled the number of the FBI main switchboard and asked to be transferred to Senior FBI Agent Tobias Fornell's extension.

"I'm sorry, Sir," the nasally voice of the receptionist echoed down the line at him. "Agent Fornell is currently on assignment and not expected back for several weeks. Can someone else help you?"

"No, thank you," he said.

Replacing the receiver with undue force his eyes narrowed as he stared at the handset. Assignment or no assignment, it wasn't like Fornell to not return his calls and he wondered whether it was by choice or by circumstance.

**-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo— oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—o o00oo—oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-oo00oo-**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

By the time Ziva and McGee arrived at 0630, Gibbs and Tony were hard at work. The younger agents were both surprised to see their senior field agent at his desk, relieved that he had not been suspended over the Young incident.

McGee continued his investigation into who was paying Stevens alimony. The money trail was literally erased seconds after it was created, but McGee had written a program that he was certain would prove successful, however the process was likely to take all day.

Ziva continued her investigation into Stevens' whereabouts. Her desk was littered with papers as she phoned all of Stevens' known associates, family members and friends to ask whether they had seen him recently. She checked in with Stevens' ex-wife and confirmed a schedule of the children's ballet and soccer commitments.

Tony was like a man possessed and not for the first time, Gibbs began to doubt his decision to allow him to work this case. He totally immersed himself in every aspect of the case. He asked Abby to re-test all items found at the crime scene and when he didn't like the result, he'd ask her to test the items again. He had discussed the findings of the autopsy reports with Ducky on three separate occasions, desperate to find something that may have been overlooked. Both Abby and Ducky had raised the matter confidentially with Gibbs, not as a complaint but to express their concern at their friend's obsessive behaviour.

The hours passed quickly with no new leads to the whereabouts of Joseph Stevens. Ziva returned from the dinner run with coffee and a few pizza boxes. Dropping one on the desk of each of her teammates, she walked to Tony's desk and said, "Pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese, yes?"

"Thanks," he mumbled, not even looking in her direction. He was still far too quiet for her liking.

"You are exhausted, Tony. You need to eat or you will get sick," she told him.

He nodded his head barely acknowledging her concern as he concentrated on the open legal file on his desk. A full minute passed before he noticed that she was still standing in front of him.

"Ziva?"

"I am not moving until you start eating," she said.

He huffed an exasperated breath, picked up a piece of pizza and began to eat.

"Happy?" he asked.

"For now," she replied and resumed her seat at her desk.

They had put in another full day. As his frustration and tension continued to increase, Tony's head began to throb mercilessly.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

It was a rare thing indeed to hear Tony's voice raised in anger but when Gibbs found Tony at the evidence locker, screaming at a clerk for not moving fast enough, his decision was made.

"DiNozzo!" he yelled. "Conference Room. Now!!"

Tony turned and followed him to the elevator. As the car began to rise, Gibbs hit the emergency stop button.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" Gibbs voice was firm but calm.

"I just needed to re-check some evidence, Boss," Tony answered, tension evident in his voice.

"You know what I'm talking about DiNozzo, we could hear you all over the Navy yard," Gibbs said.

"I may have been a little harsh," Tony conceded.

Gibbs sighed loudly. "Tony, we can't keep having this conversation. You're too close to this one. I think you …"

"No, Boss!" Tony interrupted, pre-empting the rest of Gibbs' statement. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled at….whatever-her-name is. I'll apologise but you can't pull me from this case, _please."_

"Then go home Tony and this time, get some rest. You're exhausted and you're not doing anybody any good here."

"Boss? _It's only 1830_," Tony protested.

"And you've worked the last 36 hours straight! It's your choice DiNozzo. Go home now and come back fresh tomorrow or I pull you from the case right now."

Without giving Tony a chance to argue further, Gibbs flicked the power switch and the elevator doors opened at the bullpen. Both men strode purposefully to their desks. Tony collected his weapon and snatched his backpack from where it lay next to his chair. Without a word to anyone he stalked to the stairwell and left the building.

Gibbs watched him go, fighting the urge to go after him and clear the air. It had been a frustrating day with little if any progress made. He looked at McGee and Ziva, seeing signs of fatigue on them both.

"Wrap it up. We'll call it a night," Gibbs said.

Ziva was shuffling papers on her desk, looking for her note pad. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion and she rose to her feet and walked over to Tony's desk. As she had suspected, her notepad was there but the top page had been ripped out. The page contained details of Stevens' children's dance and soccer schedules.

'_Gibbs sent Tony home._' She thought to herself. '_Surely he wouldn't…. or maybe he would.'_

She lifted the lid on the pizza box left on Tony's desk and sighed when she noticed that he'd only eaten one slice. Normally any pizza that found itself in the vicinity of Tony DiNozzo had a very short life expectancy. Grabbing the pizza box and her backpack, she bid goodnight to Gibbs and McGee and headed out.

Gibbs looked at McGee, still working furiously at his desk.

"McGee, go home."

"Boss, I'd like to stay a few more hours if that's alright," he said. "The program is finally starting to make some headway. I'd like to be able to tell Tony tomorrow that we found the source of the money."

Gibbs nodded his head, feeling more than a little proud of the way his people looked out for each other. "A few more hours and that's all."

"Yes, Boss."

"I'll be with the Director," Gibbs said heading for the large staircase.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs couldn't help but notice the large stack of files, leaning at a precarious angle on Jenny's desk.

"Gotta minute, Jen?" he asked.

Jenny rolled her eyes and looked up. "Does it look like I have a minute, Jethro?" she asked indicating the files.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "That's why they pay you the big bucks, Director."

"Really? All this time I thought that was danger money for keeping you in line," she smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to find out about an FBI assignment Fornell is on."

"So, why don't you ask Fornell?" Jenny asked.

"I tried. He's not answering my calls."

"Hmm. I'll try Jethro but you know the FBI. They don't usually share or play well with others," Jenny said. "Why do you need to know?"

"If my gut's right, I think they may know where Joseph Stevens is."

Jenny nodded thoughtfully. "No promises but I'll see what I can find out."

Gibbs nodded again and headed for the office door.

"Jethro?" Jenny called. "Since you're here, I need to speak with you about DiNozzo."

Gibbs' facial expression remained impassive but his eyes showed his irritation.

"What about DiNozzo?"

"I've had some complaints."

"As far as I know, the only thing he punched today was the vending machine," Gibbs said, "and all that got him was a Snickers bar a Twinkie and a sore hand."

"Well, I suppose that's an improvement on yesterday but I've been putting out brush fires around here for two weeks. I had several complaints from staff in Records, Evidence, the Motor Pool even his harem in the Secretarial pool, about Tony's demanding and truculent attitude."

"He's trying to solve this case before that idiotic mandate kicks in, Jen," Gibbs defended. "I'm DiNozzo's boss. If someone has a problem with him they should come directly to me!"

Jenny almost laughed. "Somehow, I don't see that happening," she said. "If he keeps this up, he'll break your record for complaints from our own agency."

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "Records are made to be broken, Jen."

"Seriously Jethro, this isn't like him. I'm worried."

"He'll be fine, Jen," Gibbs told her. "He's had a tough couple of weeks, but he's resilient, he'll bounce back."

As he left the Director's office he wondered whether he had been trying to convince Jenny or himself.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Just as she had suspected, Ziva found the much-loved mustang by a large sporting field. As it was now 1930 the floodlights illuminated the fields and surrounding spectator areas. She watched as the occupant of the car continuously scanned the area for any sign of Joseph Stevens and did not see or hear her approach.

Ziva quickly opened the passenger door.

"Tony!!" she said loudly.

Tony was startled from his surveillance and one hand dropped quickly to his side arm before he recognized his partner.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded.

Both Tony's hands grabbed at his chest. "At the moment, I think I'm having a heart attack…what are you doing here?"

She seated herself next to him and opened the pizza box.

"You did not eat your pizza," she said, handing him a piece. "Here, eat!"

He didn't take his eyes off the field as he spoke with her.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"You are my partner, Tony. I know you." She followed his gaze. "Besides, you stole my notepad, it had Stevens' sons soccer training schedule on it. Anything yet?"

Tony shook his head in response.

"No sign of him since I arrived at 1900. The ex and kids arrived right after me. Training finishes at 2100."

"Maybe he will not come tonight," Ziva said.

"And maybe he will. If it helps us find out who killed Becky, I plan on sitting here every chance I get!"

She settled in to a comfortable position beside him and selected a piece of pizza for herself.

"Then so do I," she said.

Thirty minutes had passed. They had barely spoken a word. Tony's eyes surveyed the playing fields while Ziva's focus shifted between the playing fields and Tony's face. She wanted to tell him that she was worried about him. She wanted him to tell her what he was feeling. Ziva had spent so long distancing herself from her softer, compassionate side, that sometimes it was difficult to express those feelings in words. She said nothing, hoping that her presence by his side assured him of her support.

She noted his pallor and how his eyes were red-rimmed from tiredness. She wondered when he last had a good night's sleep. Despite his protests, she convinced him to close his eyes and rest, while she continued the surveillance. About 30 minutes had passed. Ziva listened to the changing rhythm of Tony's breathing, alternating from deep and even to rapid and shallow breaths. She knew his quest for restful sleep was in fierce conflict with the horrific memories of Becky's death. For now, she did the only thing she could to help him, she let him rest and continued to watch for any sign of Stevens.

Ziva's body straightened in her seat, the movement woke Tony who was immediately alert.

"What's wrong?" he said.

She pointed towards the far end of the park. "Over there," she said. "Near those trees."

Tony followed her gaze and saw movement in the dark shadow of the tree line. As they continued to watch, the man changed position, momentarily walking into the light cast by the large floodlights. It was long enough for the agents to identify the man as Stevens.

"That's him," Tony said reaching for the door handle. "That's Stevens."

As he went to exit the vehicle, Ziva's hand caught his wrist in a firm grip.

"Tony we must proceed cautiously, yes? We do not know for sure that Stevens is our murderer," she warned. "This arrest must go by the book or he may escape prosecution."

"If you don't let go of my arm, prosecution won't be the only thing Stevens escapes."

"I am just saying…." Ziva argued.

Tony broke free from her grasp and got out of the car. "I know what you're saying, Ziva," he said. "You don't have to worry about him."

"It is not him I am worried about," she said under her breath.

They separated to approach Stevens from opposite sides. As they neared his position, Stevens noticed Ziva approaching from his right. He turned to his left and saw Tony approaching from that side. Looking panicked, Stevens looked around for an escape route and ran quickly in the direction of the car park.

"NCIS! Stop and put your hands in the air!" Ziva called after him, setting off in pursuit. Although Ziva was closer to Stevens, Tony's long legs quickly made up ground. As he passed her, he heard her warning "Be careful, Tony."

The playing fields were still filled with children playing soccer and performing various training drills and far too populated for Tony or Ziva to consider drawing their weapons. Stevens appeared to be heading for a dark SUV parked at the far end of the car park. Drawing on his depleted reserves of energy, Tony increased his speed and launched into a diving tackle that took the legs from under the fleeing Joseph Stevens. The force of their momentum caused the two men to roll several times until they came to an abrupt halt in a tangle of arms and legs.

As Tony extricated himself from Stevens, the man began to plead.

"Please, please don't kill me. My children are here. Please, don't kill me in front of my children!"

Ziva arrived at that moment and she and Tony exchanged a confused look. Ziva withdrew her ID and badge from her pocket and held them in front of Stevens' face.

"NCIS?" Stevens asked. "There must be some mistake."

Tony manhandled Stevens to his feet, uncaring of the way the man yelped from the rough treatment as his wrists were snapped tightly into handcuffs.

"You have the right to remain silent you SOB, I suggest you use it," Tony hissed threateningly into his ear.

Ziva saw a darkness in Tony's eyes that she had never seen before, a rage that he was barely keeping at bay. Taking control of the prisoner, Ziva read him his Article 31 rights as they walked back to their cars. Wanting to keep as much distance between Tony and Stevens as possible, Ziva sat Stevens in the back seat of her NCIS issue vehicle and Tony followed in his own car and they headed back to the Navy yard.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

It was just after 2200 and McGee and Gibbs were still at work in the bullpen. The ding of the elevator sounded the arrival of Ziva and Tony. Reaching behind them, they forcibly pulled Stevens from the elevator.

Tony chanced a quick look in Gibbs' direction, feeling the ex-gunny's "blue eyes of death" burning a hole in his back.

'_This is not good_' Tony thought, as he read Gibbs' expression.

He returned his attention to Stevens and guided him towards the Interrogation Rooms. Ziva walked back into the bullpen to explain what had happened.

"Stevens went to watch his son's soccer training," she said briefly.

"You knew DiNozzo would be there?" Gibbs asked.

"I _thought_ he might be there."

"And you didn't _think_ you should tell me?" Gibbs questioned, his blue eyes still reflecting his anger.

"I could have been wrong!" she defended.

"What the hell was he thinking?" Gibbs asked angrily. "Hasn't he been in enough trouble?"

"Perhaps Tony thought he was a well hung sheep!" Ziva replied.

"_What?? A...a what??"_

"Er...Boss," McGee said. "I think what Ziva meant was if Tony thought he was already in trouble, he may as _**well **_be _**hung**_ for a _**sheep**_ as for a lamb."

Gibbs turned on his heel and as he stalked from the bullpen McGee called after him.

"Where are you going, Boss?"

"I'm going to lambaste our well hung sheep!" Gibbs growled.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo---oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

As Gibbs headed for the interrogation rooms, he cursed internally. He really wasn't angry with Ziva. She did what a good partner should, she had Tony's back. He was furious at himself. He knew Tony better than anyone. He had seen the frustration, anger and grief building in him for two weeks. He should have expected something like this.

As Gibbs walked purposefully down the corridor, Tony exited Interrogation Room 2.

"Stevens is restrained and had his Article 31 rights read at the scene," Tony said, not meeting the lead agent's gaze. "Agent Stanley is watching him."

In a move reminiscent of a few days before, Gibbs pushed open the door of the observation room with almost enough force to tear it from its hinges. Once again the audio technician beat a hasty retreat from the room. This time Gibbs' voice was strangely quiet, as he fought for control of his temper. His tolerance towards Tony and his reckless behaviour of late had amazed everyone – not the least Gibbs himself.

"DiNozzo, do we have to have this conversation _again_? I sent you home to get some rest," he said wearily. "Was there something about that order that you did not understand?"

"No, Boss," came the honest reply.

"Then how is it, that your partner finds you conducting your own unauthorized surveillance, with no back-up?" Gibbs asked.

Strangely, Tony was the first one to raise his voice in anger. "We're running out of time, Gibbs!! Did you really expect me to go take a nap while Becky's killer is still out there?"

"I expect my _senior field agent_ to follow orders," Gibbs shouted back.

"I was doing my job! You couldn't find Stevens, so I found him!" Tony seethed. "I brought him in, he isn't harmed, no-one was hurt, it was all done by the book and it sure beat sitting on my ass reading three hundred files and hoping to get lucky!"

Tony glared defiantly at Gibbs whose own stare negated it. He knew Tony wasn't going to back down. The tension between the two men was so great it seemed to permeate the space around them.

Suddenly the door to the observation room opened and Director Shepard stood before them.

"Is there a problem here, Special Agent Gibbs?" she asked, her gaze drifting from one man to the other.

His eyes were still locked with Tony's as he answered. "Nothing I can't handle, Director."

Jenny stood quietly for a moment. "I spoke with the Director of the FBI. Fornell's current assignment is surveillance of a black market human organ syndicate. The Director would not divulge any details and would not allow me to be read in to the case. He did say that Fornell was likely to be caught up with this assignment for several more weeks."

"I appreciate your help, Director," Gibbs replied. "We'll begin our interrogation shortly."

"Keep me informed," Jenny said as she left the room and returned to her office.

"I want to come in with you to interview Stevens," Tony stated.

"No."

"Oh come on, Boss, this was my collar!"

"Your collar, DiNozzo?" Gibbs hissed back at him through clenched teeth. "I was of the opinion that you were part of a team – _my_ team. Although the way you've been disobeying orders and doing whatever you damn well please, leads me to think that maybe you don't want to be part of this team anymore. Am I right?"

Tony's mumbled reply was inaudible.

"I can't hear you DiNozzo. Am. I. Right? Cause if you want off this team, I can certainly accommodate that request."

"I don't want off the team, Boss," Tony said, his eyes downcast.

Gibbs took a few deep breaths.

"I know how much Becky meant to you Tony and how much you want to see her killer brought to justice – I get it. But what you seem to have forgotten is how much the rest of us want to see that happen, too. McGee, Ziva, Abby and Ducky they've all been working their asses off to get this guy. They want to get him for Becky but they want to get him for you, too."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Tony stated flatly.

"I don't want you to say anything but I won't stand by and watch you go deeper and deeper into the hellhole you seem determined to dig for yourself." Gibbs turned to leave the room and Tony called after him.

"Boss, can I come in?"

"You watch from here," Gibbs said emphatically. "You set one foot into the interrogation room in the mood you're in and you'll jeopardise the arrest. Are we clear?"

"We're clear Boss," Tony muttered reluctantly.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Joseph Stevens sat in the interrogation room, a fine sheen of perspiration beaded on his forehead. His head snapped towards the door as Gibbs entered, his body language and facial expression imparted that he was a man to be reckoned with. He nodded his head at Agent Stanley who immediately left the room.

Gibbs took a seat at the table across from Stevens, opened the file in his hands and placed photos of Rebecca Barnes and Christina Cortez on the table.

Stevens' eyes flicked to the photos and then back at Gibbs.

"Before we start, I need to make a phone call," Stevens said nervously.

"You'll get your phone call," Gibbs said.

"I don't know why I'm here or what interest NCIS have in me. I am no longer Navy personnel."

Gibbs' icy glare was matched by the coldness in his voice.

"You are a person of interest in the murder of 20 year old Christina Cortez and 8 year old Rebecca Barnes. Both victims are daughters of current Navy Personnel," Gibbs told him. "Do you know these girls?"

"You think I murdered them?" Stevens asked anxiously.

"I asked you if you knew them." Gibbs repeated.

"No! No!" Stevens answered quickly. "I swear, I've never even seen these girls before."

Gibbs placed a photo of Lt Connie Cortez and Commander Peter Barnes on the table.

"Do you know these Navy officers?"

Stevens paled noticeably as he looked at the photos. He nodded his head reluctantly.

"Of course you do," Gibbs stated. "It was Lt Cortez' testimony that had you swapping your Navy blues for Leavenworth orange and it was Commander Barnes who convinced you to plead guilty and avoid a trial."

"That's true but I didn't…I would never…I couldn't kill anyone!"

Gibbs pointed to the photo of Christina Cortez.

"This young woman was murdered seven weeks ago. That's about the time you left your job, left the halfway house where you were staying and stopped visiting your family. In fact, you disappeared off the grid."

"Yes but…I can explain…I need to make a phone call."

Gibbs slammed both hands on the table causing Stevens to jerk back in fright.

"_Tell us where you were and what you were doing and tell us now!!"_ he yelled.

The door of the interrogation room flew open and McGee stood in the doorway looking exceeding proud of himself.

"Boss, can I see you out here, please?" he said.

Swallowing his intense irritation at being interrupted, Gibbs stood and followed McGee into the corridor closing the door of the interrogation room behind him.

"Boss! I got a hit!" McGee said, practically bouncing with excitement.

"You want another hit, McGee? Try busting in on another interrogation!" Gibbs said tersely.

"No, Boss, my program, I got a hit on my program!" McGee explained nervously.

"You know whose been paying Stevens' alimony?" asked Tony, who suddenly appeared at McGee's side. "Is it another agency?"

"Yes to both questions, Tony," McGee confirmed. "The money was bounced through the clearing houses of 14 different banks around the world in an attempt to cover their tracks but the funds originated right here in Washington DC."

"Which agency?" Gibbs asked.

McGee had just opened his mouth to reply when two suited men rounded the corner and walked into view.

"That would be our agency," said Senior FBI Agent Tobias Fornell as he and Agent Ron Sacks joined them outside the interrogation room.

"You have an FBI material witness in custody, Gibbs," Fornell explained. "We want him back."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

McGee was ordered to wait in the interrogation room with Stevens while Gibbs, Tony and FBI Agents Fornell and Sacks took their discussion to the observation room.

"What the hell is this all about, Fornell?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Like I said, Gibbs, Stevens is an FBI witness and we've come to get him back."

"Like hell!" Tony said angrily.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs' expression needed no extra words to enforce his message. Turning to Fornell, Gibbs said.

"Stevens is a person of interest in two murders, Tobias. If we find out he's innocent, you can have him but not until he's cleared."

"When were these murders committed?" Agent Sacks asked.

"The first one was seven weeks ago, the second almost two weeks ago," Gibbs replied.

"Well it couldn't have been Stevens," Sacks continued. "He's been in custody in an FBI safe house, surrounded by agents, for the past eight weeks."

"Tell me Slacks, how's that protective custody thing going? Because we picked him up tonight at a _freakin soccer game!"_ Tony shouted and stepped threateningly towards Sacks.

"Let's all calm down and talk this through," Fornell suggested. "What dates did the murders occur?"

Gibbs opened the file in his hands and withdrew the photos and information he required. As he replied to Fornell's question, he placed the photos on the table.

"Christina Cortez, age 20, was murdered on the 2nd October. Estimated time of death was 2000," he said.

As he placed Becky's photo on the table, he noticed Fornell wince.

"Rebecca Barnes, age 8, was murdered on 1st November. Estimated time of death was 2100. We believe the killer of both victims has extensive medical or surgical training."

"And what makes you think Stevens was involved?" Fornell asked.

"The victims are the daughters of two Navy officers responsible for Stevens going to Leavenworth," Gibbs replied.

"That's not much to go on," Sacks stated. "You have no matching prints, no matching DNA, nothing concrete that ties Stevens to either murder? You wouldn't be trying to convict an innocent man, would you DiNozzo?"

"Slacks, you are an asshole every day of the week... why couldn't you take one day off?" Tony said. "I seem to recall not too long ago that you had me arrested for dismembering a woman! You weren't too concerned about my innocence, were you?"

The two younger agents now stood chest to chest, their eyes burning with fury.

"That's enough!" Fornell yelled. Turning his attention back to Gibbs he asked. "You're sure you're looking for the same killer?"

Gibbs nodded. "Chemical analysis on the chloroform matches, hair follicle found on both victims match, same MO, and both of the victims died of wounds inflicted in the same manner. Those details were never released publicly. Same man killed both girls, Tobias."

Fornell looked again at the photos of the victims and shook his head at the senseless waste of life.

"You've got the wrong man, Jethro," he said. "It wasn't Stevens."

Tony opened his mouth to protest again but another sharp look from Gibbs kept him silent.

"How can you be so sure?" Gibbs asked.

"Stevens is the prime witness in a black market organ transplant syndicate we've been trying to shut down. Due to his surgical skills, the leaders of this organization approached him when he was released from Leavenworth. He came to us voluntarily. We've had him in protective custody since the 20th September. He's not you're killer."

"With all due respect, Toby, I think we've already proven that FBI safe houses may as well be fitted with revolving doors for all the good they do," Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Stevens let himself out to attend a soccer game for God's sake, how do you know he didn't let himself out to commit two murders and then let himself back in? You've gotta admit, having the FBI as an alibi is pretty smart."

Fornell chose to ignore the snipe about the safe houses but addressed the rest of the question.

"I know that Stevens is not the killer, DiNozzo, because I was with him myself on the 1st November. We played chess until after 11pm."

"You sure of the date, Tobias?" Gibbs asked.

"Positive," Fornell replied. "It was Emily's birthday. I wasn't able to swap shifts and spent the night watching Stevens instead of spending it with my daughter."

Gibbs nodded his head. He knew that Fornell would not lie about something like that.

"Gonna need you to sign a statement."

"No problem," Fornell replied.

"_What?? That's it!!"_ Tony's voice started to rise and this time he ignored the warning glare from his team leader. "We let Stevens go because they say so? What if they're lying? It wouldn't be the first time the FBI has lied to us to save their own asses."

Fornell and Sacks both bristled at the accusation and Fornell rose to his feet and pointed to Becky's photo.

"This little girl was about the same age as my own daughter," he said. "Do you really think we'd cover for her killer?"

"Maybe not you, Toby, but I'm not sure about Slacks here," Tony replied.

"You SOB!" Sacks hissed. He stepped forward towards Tony and shoved him backwards into the wall.

In normal circumstances, it would take a lot more than a firm shove in the chest for the affable Tony DiNozzo to lose his composure but this was not a normal circumstance. Tony's tenuous grip on his beleaguered temper released and his rising anger persuaded his brain to ignore the ramifications of his next actions. He pushed off from the wall and grabbed Sacks by the lapels of his suit as his momentum carried them both crashing to the floor where they continued their struggle.

Gibbs and Fornell reached for their respective subordinates, hauling them to their feet, standing between them and bellowing at them to settle down. Fornell dragged Sacks through the door of the observation room and into the corridor.

"Wait for me in the car!" he growled then watched as Sacks stalked from down the corridor out of sight.

Tony was still thrashing about to free himself from Gibbs' grasp. He could see Gibbs' lips moving but his blood was pumping so furiously in his ears that he had to strain to hear anything else.

"Dammit DiNozzo, calm down!" Gibbs yelled.

He pinned Tony against the wall and fought to restrain him until he stopped struggling. Just as Gibbs loosened his hold Tony abruptly turned away from him, drew back his arm and would have put his fist through the wall had he not opened his hand at the last possible second. Gibbs winced as Tony's open hand pounded against the wall and his chest heaved as he tried to regain his composure. Gibbs placed a chair behind him and wordlessly urged him to sit. Tony fell into the chair, completely spent as he realised they had all but lost their last chance of finding Becky's killer before the cold case classification was assigned and they were ordered to investigate another case. Giving Tony's shoulder a quick squeeze, Gibbs said.

"Stay there, I'll be back in a minute."

Exiting the observation room he walked to where Fornell was waiting for him. They both breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"What's with your boy? He's wound a little tightly, don't you think Jethro," Fornell asked.

"Rebecca Barnes was a close family friend, Tobias. He's desperate to find her killer. How do you explain Sacks?"

"Sacks?" Fornell said with a shrug. "Being pissed off is his default position. Seriously Jethro, Stevens isn't your man but he is crucial to us busting this organ transplant syndicate. I need to take him back with me tonight."

Gibbs nodded his head and walked to the interrogation room where McGee was still watching over Stevens. "McGee, prepare his release papers. We're not charging him."

He walked back to Fornell and found him staring into space. "DiNozzo and Sacks." Fornell wondered aloud. "You think we were ever like them?"

Gibbs had started to open the door to the observation room when he paused momentarily to consider the question.

"The day Sacks marries Tony's ex- wife, we'll know for sure."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs walked back into the observation room and found Tony, still sitting in the chair where he'd left him. His elbows rested on his knees and his head in his hands. He didn't look up as Gibbs approached and straddled a chair in front of him.

"You hurt?"

Tony's head shook slowly from side to side.

"I had to let Stevens go. Fornell would not lie about something like this," Gibbs told him.

"I know," Tony said quietly. "That's it Boss, in 24 hours this case will have a cold case status and Becky's killer is as good as gone."

The statement hung heavily in the air and both men knew there was no disputing it.

"You gonna sit there all night?" Gibbs asked.

"I just need a few minutes," Tony said, barely above a whisper.

As Gibbs stood to leave he gave Tony's shoulder another quick squeeze.

"Take your time," he said gently.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—

Gibbs strode into the bullpen where McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky and Palmer were waiting. McGee had told them that Stevens had been released into FBI custody. Abby was first to break the silence.

"Gibbs? We heard what happened. Where's Tony?" she asked anxiously.

"He'll be here in a few minutes."

"Is he okay, Boss?" McGee asked.

"What do you think, McGee?" he answered a little more harshly than he intended.

Gibbs checked his watch and saw that it was 2240.

"It's been a long day. Go home people."

"With all due respect, Jethro," Ducky said. "We don't think we will."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony returned to the bullpen expecting to find it deserted for the evening, instead it buzzed with activity and quiet chatter. He stopped at Gibbs' desk, noticing it was covered in Commander Barnes' legal files.

"Boss? What's going on?"

"You tell me, DiNozzo!" Gibbs replied. "I told them all to go home ten minutes ago. Looks like the whole team is pulling an all-nighter."

Tony looked around to see Ziva and Jimmy Palmer, sitting at Ziva's desk and animatedly discussing a open file in front of them. To his left, Ducky and McGee were having a similar discussion. Abby was seated at Tony's desk and beamed a smile as bright as a second sun.

"Come on Sex Machine, we've got some work to do," she said.

The team worked through the night, only stopping to grab a coffee or a quick snack or to work the kinks out of their tired muscles. Ducky, Abby and Palmer left the bullpen to return to their respective jobs at 0630, leaving the agents to continue the impossible task of reviewing the rest of the files by 1800 that evening.

Another long and exhausting day of reviewing files awaited them. Each member of the team were desperate to find a new lead before the 'cold case' deadline was imposed.

McGee watched as Tony rubbed at tired eyes with the heels of his hands. As they inched closer to their deadline, Tony began taking deep breaths to control his breathing as his chest tightened from tension. The last time he had seen Tony looking so tired and drawn was when he returned to work too early after his battle with the plague.

All heads turned in the direction of Gibbs desk phone when it rang at 1830. After a moments silence, Gibbs replied. "Tell the Director, I'll be right up."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Gibbs walked quickly from the bullpen and took the stairs to the Directors office. He nodded a greeting at the Directors' secretary, Cynthia.

"You can go right in Agent Gibbs," Cynthia advised politely, "The Director's waiting for you."

Gibbs opened the door and walked into Jenny's office, taking a seat in front of her desk while waiting for her to look up from the file she was reading. When Jenny didn't immediately fix her attention on him, his usual impatience took over.

"You wanted to see me Jen? Cause if you're too busy, I can come back," he said with not quite enough sincerity.

Jenny looked at him over the top of her reading glasses.

"Yes, Jethro," she replied, "I need an update on the Barnes and Cortez files."

"I sent you an update report on those files!" he was annoyed as he anticipated where this conversation was leading.

"That was a almost week ago, Jethro!" Jenny countered. "Are you telling me that there have been no leads since then."

"We've had leads," he said defensively. "Just no viable ones."

"I see. Are you following any viable leads now?"

Gibbs didn't answer, he just fixed one of his famous _don't go there_ stares on her.

Jenny had known Gibbs for too long to let his stares intimidate her.

"Then, I'm going to have to insist that the files be marked as 'cold cases.' Our caseload has improved during the last fortnight but we have other cases to attend to. Your team has been working incredibly long hours for the last 14 days straight - take the weekend off, I need your team back on rotation on Monday."

Gibbs rose to his feet. "Jenny, you know this is not just any case," he argued, "You know we have a personal stake in this one."

"Yes I do, Jethro," she answered, "and believe me, I don't like this anymore than you do. However, without any new leads and with SecNav breathing down my neck, I simply don't have the resources to allow my Major Case Response Team to continue to work on this case!"

A moment of silence passed between them. He knew she was right - they'd had no new viable leads on the Barnes and Cortez files for over a week. Somehow, he was going to have to find the words to tell DiNozzo. Jenny seemed to read his mind.

"You're worried about Tony's reaction," she said simply.

"This will hit him hard. He won't like it."

"He doesn't have to like it, Jethro, hell, I don't like it either but I have no choice. We have other cases pending and we have a directive from SecNav." Her voice softened as she continued. "As soon as anything new breaks on either file, you're free to keep investigating, but until then….would you like me to tell him?"

"He's my Agent, Jen, I'll tell him myself," he said more harshly than he intended as he turned towards the door and left the office.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs stood on the landing above the bullpen, watching his team below. Ziva and McGee were standing in front of one of the large plasma screens. They were crosschecking data to a separately sourced list Ziva had in a file. They were working hard but occasionally exchanged a grin or participated in a playful banter that was vital to maintain a semblance of sanity in this line of work.

DiNozzo was another matter and Gibbs was worried. Becky's death and the on-going investigation had been extremely hard on the younger man. There had been none of his joking or casual conversation for weeks. No flirting with Ziva or torturing of McGee. None of the usual DiNozzo style that counter balanced his own so well. It threw off the dynamic of the whole team. Tony was withdrawn and no one, not Gibbs, not Ducky or his teammates, could draw him out. Even Abby, who had always been able to cut through Tony's defences, could not get him to open up. Gibbs had never seen him so determined and so dark, for so long. It seemed the longer they went without a viable lead, the angrier, more reckless and more introverted he became.

DiNozzo's desk was completely covered in documents from both the Barnes and Cortez files, as he checked and re-checked for anything they may have missed, any new lead that could break the cases open.

Gibbs returned to the bullpen, stopping to collect the now cold cup of coffee from his desk. He walked past Tony's desk without slowing.

"DiNozzo, with me," he said, heading for the elevator. Ziva and McGee shared a brief questioning look then shrugged and returned to their work.

Tony was up and falling into step behind Gibbs almost immediately. They waited in silence for the elevator to arrive, and then entered the car. When the doors had closed, Gibbs hit the emergency stop button.

"Something wrong, Boss?" Tony asked. The muted light of the elevator car, accentuated how exhausted Tony looked. The lines and creases of sleepless nights marked his face.

"The Director has instructed us to mark the Barnes and Cortez files with cold case status. We're back on rotation on Monday," Gibbs said flatly, noting Tony's entire body tense and his normally expressive, green eyes appeared dark and flat. He had known this was coming.

"We don't have any viable leads and.."

"I can find one, Boss," Tony interrupted "I know I can. We can't walk away from this case while Becky's killer is still out there!"

"No-one is walking away, Tony," Gibbs stated, "The minute any new evidence comes to light, the case will become our highest priority, you have my word. But, in the meantime, we have other cases that deserve our attention."

Tony shook his head. As much as his own experience dictated that SecNav's mandate could not be avoided, he could not bring himself to accept it.

"She can't do this, Boss," he said, his anger building and his voice rising. "The Director can't do this to Becky! I promised Pete and Helen that we'd get this guy! I can't walk away from this – I won't."

The look of unmitigated defiance that appeared on Tony's face and could be heard in his voice stunned Gibbs a little. He had always liked that, when it mattered, the younger agent spoke his mind. Even if that meant the two occasionally butted heads, but this was not a difference of opinion, this was much more.

Gibbs walked directly into Tony's personal space, backing the younger man up until his back was against the elevator wall. His blue eyes hardened and narrowed as they burned into Tony's.

"If you intend to defy me, Special Agent DiNozzo," he hissed, "you tell me now and I'll have your transfer papers done in an hour!"

They remained in an uneasy, tension-filled silence for an uncomfortably long minute, with neither man backing down. Finally, Gibbs slammed the start button with his fist, signalling that their discussion was over – at least for now.

As they walked back into the bullpen and went to their respective desks, Gibbs snapped at Ziva and McGee.

"We're marking the Barnes and Cortez files with cold case status. Make sure your file notes are up to date. It's Friday afternoon - we're back on rotation on Monday".

Surprised by the news, both Ziva and McGee looked at Tony for his reaction, realizing how hard this would be for him. Tony did not meet their gaze. His head was down as he organized the documents on his desk.

"Now!!" Gibbs barked, sending Ziva and McGee scurrying to their desks.

Still reeling from the news, Tony had placed the remaining documents in the file on his desk. He closed the file and gently traced his fingers over the name "Rebecca Barnes".

"She can't do this," he whispered almost inaudibly. Suddenly he was on his feet and headed for the Directors office.

"God dammit DiNozzo!" Gibbs muttered before pushing back from his desk and following after Tony. He took the stairs two at a time, feeling the groan of his bad knees.

Tony had made it as far as Cynthia's office and Gibbs stood at the door, out of Tony's line of vision. Cynthia looked confused.

"I'm sorry, Tony," she said checking her diary, "was Director Shepard expecting you?"

"No, she wasn't _expecting_ me," Tony replied, exasperation evident in his tone "I _need_ to speak with the Director _now_ Cynthia, it's very important!"

Cynthia chanced a quick glance to Gibbs, still standing in the outer doorway. He was firmly shaking his head, no.

She returned her attention to Tony. Her face took on an unusually guilty expression as she explained, "I'm sorry Tony. The Director's on a conference call and can't be disturbed"

Tony looked back at the doorway and saw Gibbs standing there. He immediately knew that Cynthia had been lying. His fists clenched in anger and he turned towards the door of the Director's office.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted. "You knock on that door and you can kiss your job good-bye. Is that what you want?"

Tony turned to face him, anger and frustration flushing his face with colour. "You know what I want!" he replied through his clenched jaw.

As Tony turned back towards the Director's door, Gibbs stalked across the office in three quick strides, placing himself between Tony and the door.

"Stand down, DiNozzo!" he barked in his best DI voice.

Tony gave Gibbs a mutinous look but stood still. Gibbs' voice took on a more patient tone as he explained.

"Tony, I know how hard this is. But we were given a directive, like it or not." He pointed to the Director's office. "If you ever try to go over my head again, I'll kick your ass back to Baltimore. Go home, Tony – get some rest. We'll see you on Monday."

Tony opened his mouth to say something else, thought better of it and turned on his heel and left.

Jenny had finished her telephone call and stood listening from the other side of the door. She wanted to speak with Tony, explain the situation, offer her sympathy but she knew that Gibbs would not thank her for it. As he'd told her many times, he could handle his own agents. She heard Tony walk away and opened her office door, inviting Gibbs in.

"I expected that Tony would not take the news well, but I must admit I didn't think he would ever come so close to defying you," she said softly.

"These people are his friends, Jen," Gibbs said in reply, "Becky was their life. I know what this case means to him."

Gibbs turned to look at Jenny and she saw a brief flash of hurt in his eyes. She knew he was close to DiNozzo but there was something more.

"How can you know what this case means to him?" she asked, immediately cursing herself for her momentary lapse in sensitivity.

Gibbs took a deep breath before answering. "Because I know what it's like to bury an eight year old girl," he said softly.

Jenny grasped his hand tightly for a few seconds before letting go. As she watched him walk from her office, a few traitorous tears were starting to sting her eyes, and she clenched them tightly shut for a moment until she regained her composure.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Tony slammed his apartment door closed behind him, almost ripping it from its hinges from the force of the impact. He was still reeling from the thought that the team had been removed from the case.

Becky's murderer was out there somewhere, unknown, not pursued, unpunished. How could he face Pete and Helen? How could he tell them that, for now, NCIS had more pressing business than to look for the animal that had brutally murdered their little girl? How could he face himself?

He removed his tie and jacket, throwing them on his favourite recliner chair. He undid the top button of his shirt, rolled up the sleeves and kicked off his shoes. The sudden ringing of his landline startled him and he let the answering machine pick up.

"DiNozzo, I'll be home." That was the entire message left by Gibbs in his usual succinct and gruff manner. Tony knew, despite the brevity, that the message was an invitation for him to call by Gibbs' home to talk, rant, yell or scream about being removed from Becky's case. For now, Tony just couldn't bring himself to speak with anyone.

Knowing their team was not on-call this weekend; he unplugged his landline and switched off his cell, hoping to ensure he was left alone for the night. Walking to the small liquor cabinet he reached for a glass and the unopened bottle of 40-year-old, malt whisky, that Ducky had given him at Christmas. He sat on his couch and cracked the seal of the bottle and poured himself a more than generous measure. He took his first gulp, feeling the smooth liquid burn all the way down to his stomach, almost stealing his breath away. He leaned back into the couch, determined to use the alcohol to ease the feelings of guilt, grief, frustration and inadequacy – at least for a short while.

A few hours after the sun had set, his apartment was in darkness and Tony had consumed over half of the bottle of whisky but still could not clear his mind of thoughts of Becky. Unlike the nightmares that still plagued him, at least these thoughts were of happier times.

_-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0oo-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-_

_**Flashback**_

_Tony's beloved Mustang parked at the front of Pete and Helen's home. He climbed from the car and spotted Becky in the yard with Brandy, the puppy he had given her for her eighth birthday. She was trying to impart some obedience training on the rambunctious little golden retriever…or was it the other way around? Becky smiled with delight when she saw him._

"_Tony!!" she squealed as she and the puppy ran towards him._

"_Hi Becky," Tony replied, flashing his famous smile and taking a knee. "How's my girl?"_

"_I'm fine," Becky replied,_ _before engulfing Tony in a huge hug that Abby would have been proud of. _

"_Becks," Tony gasped, "I can't breathe."_

"_Sorry, Tony," Becky said sheepishly then placing her hands on her hips, she eyed him accusingly. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you for three weeks!"_

_Looking suitably chastened Tony answered, "Well, I've been very busy with my work. But tonight, I have the night off and your Dad and I are going to play some basketball. Best of all, I get to say hi to my favourite girl." he finished._

_Becky giggled and embraced him in another huge hug._

_They hadn't noticed Pete and Helen's arrival on the front porch._

"_Becky, don't damage Tony, we have a game of b-ball to play," said Pete playfully admonishing his daughter._

"_Hey Pete, Helen," Tony greeted._

"_Come on, Tony, we're going to be late," Pete said, extending his hand and pulling Tony to his feet before walking to the car._

_Tony looked back to see Helen and Becky, still standing on the porch, waving good-bye and wishing them luck in the game._

"_You know, Pete," he said, "You're a lucky man!"_

_**End Flashback**_

-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-o0o-

Tony took another slug of whisky as he thought of the family whose lives were now irreparably shattered. An annoying and repetitive thumping on his front door disturbed his thoughts. He held his position on the couch and, as the apartment was in complete darkness, he hoped his uninvited guest would presume he wasn't home and would leave. The thumping continued.

"Come on, Tony, open the door. I know you're home," called McGee. "Your car's parked downstairs and the night manager said you came home a few hours ago and haven't left!"

"Go away, McGee," Tony yelled through the closed door.

"Not getting rid of me that easily, Tony. Now get off your butt and open this door! Don't make me pick the lock!" McGee added, more for effect than anything else, as although he had mastered the single cylinder locks, he was still honing his skills on the complex deadlock that Tony had installed.

Tony realized that McGee wasn't leaving anytime soon. He did not want another complaint from the "old bag" next door who whined whenever he played his surround sound system so, reluctantly, he heaved himself to his feet and opened the door.

McGee looked at him triumphantly "I come bearing dinner," he said, juggling cartons of Chinese food in his hands and a six-pack of beer under his arm.

Tony sighed audibly. "Look, McGee," he said, "I appreciate the thought but I'm lousy company right now and I'd rather be alone, so…please leave."

McGee looked at Tony's bloodshot, glassy eyes and his dishevelled appearance. He could smell the alcohol on his breath and noted how Tony needed the support of the doorframe to remain upright. He had rarely seen the older man look so completely miserable.

"A wise man once told me that when the going gets tough, the tough go clubbing… actually, Tony," McGee corrected, "it wasn't a wise man, it was you. You told me that when you came to my apartment, the night I shot and killed Detective Benedict. Now, I'm not asking you to go clubbing but I'm not leaving before we eat, so you better let me in before the food gets cold and the beer gets warm."

Tony's shoulders slumped in resignation and he moved aside to allow McGee to enter.

McGee had always admired Tony's home. Situated in a high-end apartment block, it was sparsely, yet tastefully furnished. Everything organized and in its place, from Tony's eclectic DVD collection to the assortment of books on his bookshelf.

When he had first met Tony, he had expected his home to look like a Frat house. With dirty clothes, discarded food cartons and empty beer bottles strewn carelessly among the nudie magazines and x-rated DVDs. McGee couldn't help thinking that Tony's apartment was testimony to the complexity and paradox that is Tony DiNozzo the man.

Tony dropped heavily onto the couch, his head spinning a little, as he watched McGee through bleary, green eyes. He huffed softly as he thought how confident McGee had become. A few years ago, Tim would have chopped his right arm off rather than be found rifling Tony's kitchen cupboards for plates and eating utensils. Yet here he was, trying to provide some kind of support to his teammate - his partner.

They had never had the type of friendship based on flowery, inspiring words of comfort. A heartfelt pat on the shoulder or back, or an encouraging nod of the head was usually all that was required. In more difficult times, a meal, a few drinks and quiet company provided all the support either man was comfortable with.

McGee juggled the plates and food and placed them on the coffee table, before heading back to the kitchen for two beers. He noted the opened whisky bottle and the empty glass.

"I see you've started without me," he said while checking the label "With the good stuff, too! Let me guess, Ducky?"

Tony nodded wearily as Tim replaced the lid.

"Come on," he said, "you better eat something."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

When they'd finished eating, McGee took their plates and the left over food to the kitchen. He wished Tony had eaten more but was satisfied that he had something in his stomach other than pure malt whisky.

He leant against the kitchen bench and looked back at Tony.

"I'm guessing by the unplugged phones, that you don't feel up to talking," he said.

"You guessed right," Tony replied flatly, laying on his back on the couch and staring at the ceiling.

"You know, Tony," McGee continued, "Just because we have no new leads now, doesn't mean that some new piece of evidence won't turn up tomorrow"

Tony's eyes flashed with anger as he looked at McGee

"Thank you for that startling insight into crime investigation, McSherlock," he hissed, "but you know as well as I do that every day that passes with no new leads means the killer is another day closer to getting off Scott-free or claiming another innocent victim!"

After a few moments, McGee tried again.

"Have you spoken to Commander and Mrs. Barnes?"

Tony flung himself angrily to his feet, swaying unsteadily from the effects of the alcohol.

"What do I tell them, McGee?" the grief and anger Tony felt revealed itself as his voice increased its volume. He stalked across the room until he stood with his face inches from McGee's, fury and desperation evident in his eyes.

"They begged me to bring their little girl home to them and I did - in a body bag. Then I promised to bring her killer to justice. How can I tell them that we've moved on to more current cases?? Tell me how, McGee??"

McGee stood his ground, firmly holding Tony's gaze for a long moment. As he turned to place his beer on the bench, he accidentally knocked a thick folder to the floor, sending documents in every direction.

McGee stooped to pick them up and glanced at the pages for a moment before looking back at Tony.

"Does Gibbs know you took copies of the Barnes and Cortez files?" he asked while rising to his feet.

Tony stepped into McGee's personal space in an instant, his jaw tensed and his eyes dark.

"No, McGee, Gibbs doesn't know and I'd prefer to keep it that way if you don't mind," he slurred angrily. "I may not be able to investigate this case during working hours, but they can't tell me what to do in my own time!"

McGee continued to look through the files while Tony swayed menacingly beside him.

"The files aren't complete," he said looking at Tony, "the evidence logs and the autopsy and forensic reports are missing."

Tony looked downcast. "I didn't have time to make copies before Gibbs sent me home," he said.

McGee straightened to his full height, an inch or so shorter than Tony.

"Well then," he said with a grin, "it's just as well I brought you this!"

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a computer memory stick.

"You'll find both completed files here plus another dozen or so of the Commander's legal files," McGee said. "I figured you would want to keep pursuing this, I know I would."

Tony cupped a hand around the back of McGee's neck.

"You're a good man, McCharlie Brown," he said quietly.

"You're not gonna kiss me, are you?" McGee joked.

Tony's world moved quickly to the left, then overcorrected to the right, almost pitching him to the floor. Half a bottle of whisky and a few beers were definitely now making their presence felt. McGee grabbed him by the arm and assisted him to the couch.

"Whoa," Tony mumbled. "Head rush."

Tony lay back on the couch and closed his eyes in an effort to ward off the dizziness. He mumbled something unintelligible and a few moments later, he succumbed to a deep, alcohol induced sleep. McGee gathered the comforter from Tony's bed and covered him with it then let himself out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. He made his way down the hallway to the elevator just as it arrived. The doors opened and he was nearly knocked to the ground when Gibbs exited rapidly.

"Boss!" startled McGee. "What are you doing here??"

"Checking on DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a neutral tone that belied his true concern. "I left a phone message for him hours ago. I know he's pissed off but he usually gets back to me. Is he home?"

"Yeah, Boss, he's home," McGee replied. "In fact, I just left him."

"So, he's okay?" Gibbs continued.

McGee winced before answering. "He's angry, he's frustrated about the case and at the moment, he's…er… drunk as a skunk and passed out on his couch. If tomorrow's hang over doesn't kill him, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Thanks, McGee. Go home and get some rest. See you Monday," Gibbs instructed as he continued towards Tony's apartment and produced his spare key from his pocket.

"You're not coming, Boss?" McGee asked in surprise. "Tony's really okay."

"I'm sure he is, McGee," he answered in a hushed voice while opening the door. "Now, go home!" and he entered Tony's apartment.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00o—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

The reek of alcohol assaulted Gibbs from the moment he opened the door. He made his way to the side table in the living room and switched on the lamp. McGee wasn't kidding - Tony lay sprawled uncomfortably across the couch, long limbs strewn in every direction. His mouth was open slightly and he was snoring softly. Even while sleeping, Tony's eyes were bruised with fatigue and his face showed the lines of tension and grief the younger man had been feeling for weeks now.

Gibbs made himself a cup of coffee, walked back into the living room and shook his head at the sight of his inebriated agent. He fought the rising urge to haul Tony to his feet, stand him under a cold shower and shake the fight back into him. Then he realised that any attempt to drag Tony in a particular direction would only lead to the younger man shrugging him off and taking the opposite path.

DiNozzo Snr learned that lesson when he tried to strong-arm his son into joining the family business and many an ex-girlfriend learned the same lesson when they announced that they wanted him to commit to a relationship. To the uninformed, it appeared that if Gibbs said, "jump," Tony replied "how high?" But Gibbs knew very well that DiNozzo was his own man and would not follow him blindly without the total confidence and certainty that he was being led where he wanted or needed to go.

"Job's not done yet, Tony, the killer's still out there," he said quietly not expecting a response. He lifted the bottle of malt whisky from the coffee table and returned it to the liquor cabinet.

"Crawling into a bottle won't help either," he added, drawing on his own experiences.

Looking back at the still sleeping man he said firmly.

"You will _**not**_ let this beat you, DiNozzo. You. Will. Not!"

As he sat on the nearby recliner, the sound of Tony's soft snoring drew him in and soon found him drifting off into a light doze. He wasn't asleep long when Tony's soft coughing woke him. The compulsive swallowing and gasping led Gibbs to believe that if he didn't move fast, the expensive rug was in serious jeopardy.

He grabbed Tony's arm and hauled him to his feet. Tony was halfway across the room before he realised he was off the couch. Taking most of Tony's weight, Gibbs half dragged him to the bathroom and barely managed to get him to the toilet before he lost the contents of his stomach.

Gibbs turned his back to give him a little privacy. He opened the bathroom cabinet and removed the Tylenol and Vitamin B capsules he knew Tony kept there. He filled a glass with water and placed it, with the tablets, on the bedside table in Tony's room and in easy reach for when his inevitable hangover screamed for attention.

He realised that the vomiting had stopped and walked back into the bathroom to find Tony draped over the toilet bowl, his eyes closed and his body shivering. Pure exhaustion and the effects of the alcohol had robbed Tony of his muscle control and coordination and he leaned heavily into Gibbs as he led him to his bed. He was out for the count before his head hit the pillow.

Gibbs removed Tony's belt and threw a light blanket over him. He pulled the curtains closed, switched on a bedside lamp and left the door ajar so he could hear if Tony needed anything. He waited by the bedroom door until his agent's breathing evened out and he was sure sleep had taken him then he made himself another cup of coffee and returned to the recliner to continue his vigil.

He periodically stood at the bedroom door to ensure that Tony was still sleeping. He checked his watch, surprised to see that it was only 2330. He started to make himself another coffee when his cell phone rang. He answered quickly so it wouldn't disturb Tony, and then quickly deduced that nothing short of a tsunami could wake Tony at the moment.

"Gibbs," he said

"Gibbs, it's me!" Abby's voice sounded more frantic than usual. "I know it's late but I'm worried about Tony. He was so upset when he left work this afternoon and I've been trying to call him ever since but I just get his voicemail. I've left, like, a hundred messages for him to call me and he hasn't called back…okay, so maybe it wasn't a hundred messages but it was a lot and Tony always calls me back Gibbs, always! Gibbs I'm _really, really_ worried about him."

"Relax, Abs," Gibbs replied. "I'm at Tony's apartment now."

"You are? What's wrong? Is something wrong with Tony? Oh my God I knew it! I'm coming over."

"Abby! Listen to me, Tony is fine." Gibbs attempted to calm her.

"He's fine? Oh thank God! Can I talk to him?"

"Now's not a good time, Abs," he said. "He's… sleeping."

"He's sleeping?" Abby repeated in surprise. "Wow, how'd you manage that? Tony hasn't slept properly for weeks."

"Well, you can thank exhaustion and half of a bottle of 40 year old whisky for that."

"Tony's wasted?" Abby asked.

Gibbs walked to the bedroom door again and looked in at Tony's inert form, sprawled on the bed.

"Oh yeah…Tony's wasted," he confirmed.

"Oh Gibbs….." Abby's trembling voice trailed off and Gibbs could imagine the Goth scientist biting her bottom lip and fighting back tears. He knew how much she cared for Tony.

"I'll stay here tonight, Abs, he'll be fine."

"Okay," Abby sniffed. "I'll call him in the morning."

Gibbs looked to the small desk in the corner of the room where he'd earlier noticed the landline unplugged and Tony's cell switched off.

"Abs, he needs some space to work this through. Give him the weekend to sleep it off and you can see him at work Monday morning."

Abby reluctantly agreed, trusting that if anyone knew what Tony needed, Gibbs did.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

From his position on the recliner, Gibbs noticed a sheet of paper protruding from under the couch. He bent to collect it and saw it was the document index from the Rebecca Barnes murder investigation. He walked to Tony's desk in the corner of the room and found almost a complete copy of the file. His lips quirked into a grin as he realised that Tony had no intension on giving up on this case – SecNav mandate or not.

"Atta boy, Tony," he said quietly.

Gibbs selected a book from the bookshelf and was leafing through the pages when the sound of Tony's low moans fractured the silence of the apartment. He walked to the bedroom and saw Tony still stretched on top of his bed. His long-fingered hands curled and flexed and sweat dampened his hair as his eyes darted behind closed lids. Gibbs didn't need to decipher the soft, nonsensical words to know the cause of Tony's distress. He was obviously in the grips of another nightmare.

Gibbs sighed audibly. Though it was far from the ideal solution, he had hoped that half a bottle of malt whisky would ward off the nightmares that Tony had experienced since Becky's death to allow him one full night of undisturbed sleep.

Still standing at the door, Gibbs had almost convinced himself to wake him when Tony shouted suddenly and sat bolt upright. The look of terror on his face morphed quickly to confusion as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge. He swayed dangerously and closed his eyes tightly, taking deep breaths to quell the growing nausea. Even in the dim light Gibbs could see that Tony's face was ashen.

Tony scrubbed his face with his hands and let go with a string of loud curses before reaching for the Tylenol by the bed and tossing back a couple of tablets. He washed them down with the glass of water before allowing his body to fall back onto the bed where, moments later, the exhaustion pulled him back into a deep sleep. Gibbs waited, unnoticed and once he was sure Tony was sleeping soundly, he refilled the glass with water and walked back to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee then he resumed his seat on the lounge chair. As he sipped his coffee, his mind flashed back to the agonisingly vivid nightmares he suffered when he lost Shannon and Kelly. Although he hadn't been with them when they died his grief-stricken mind imagined their deaths night after nightmare-plagued night until he was afraid to close his eyes and close to losing his mind. He would not let that happen to Tony.

As daylight crept into the room, its red glow illuminated the apartment. Gibbs ignored the popping of his knees as he stood and started to stretch the kinks and stiffness out of his over tired muscles. He walked to Tony's bedroom door and noted the younger man was still sleeping fitfully. He had yelled incoherently on several occasions during the night but each time Gibbs had arrived at his door, Tony had calmed and returned to a restless sleep.

Gibbs knew the younger man would be mortified to know that he had witnessed his nightmares and the emptying of his stomach contents. He also knew that Tony would be horrified if Gibbs stayed to watch him do battle with the enormous hangover he would more than likely wake to. If he tried to speak with him now, Tony would not let go of his anger and humiliation long enough to see reason. He would wait for another time, a time when Tony would listen and would accept the help of his friends - even if Gibbs had to sit on his damn chest to keep him still, he'd listen. Once Gibbs realised that Tony had started to stir, he quietly let himself out of the apartment and headed home.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The pounding in his head intensified and Tony groaned as he realised he could ignore it no longer. Ever so reluctantly he cracked open his eyes, overwhelmingly grateful that the heavy curtains in his bedroom were blocking the brightness of the morning sun. He reached for the Tylenol and Vitamin B that were conveniently situated on his bedside table and gave no thought to how they'd got there. He downed the tablets with a glass of water before dragging himself to his feet to answer the call of nature.

He abandoned all thoughts of his morning run, grateful at this point that he could manage to walk and he allowed himself a long hot shower to soothe his tense muscles and ease the throbbing in his head. He dressed in sweats and a t-shirt and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. The various aromas from the fridge wafted up to him and his beleaguered stomach churned rebelliously.

He walked back into the living room and retrieved his backpack from the desk. He glanced briefly at the unplugged phone and his switched off cell. A moment of guilt flashed through him as he realized that his friends may have tried to contact him – but he could not bring himself to speak with anyone at the moment. He took some consolation in the fact that McGee would call Abby to let her know that he was okay...well, alive anyway... but that wouldn't save him from a full-on Abby rant when she finally caught up with him.

He connected the memory stick McGee had given him to his laptop and attempted to review more legal files. After a while he found that his fatigue combined with his hangover severely hampered his ability to concentrate and reading exacerbated the nausea. He forced himself to concentrate harder, moving his finger from left to write along the monitor as he tried to read the text. It was only when he reached the bottom of a page that he realised that he couldn't remember the previous paragraphs.

He growled in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes. Unwilling to continue in case he missed something crucial, he took a break and switched on the television to watch some college football but soon fell asleep and spent the afternoon lightly dozing on the couch. When he woke again it was almost 1900 and his apartment was in darkness. Still unable to face the thought of food, he continued to lay in the darkness and reviewed the case, step by step, in his mind until the early hours of Sunday morning when he finally took himself to bed.

He woke early to a feeling of dread in his stomach that had nothing to do with the residual effects of his hangover. He needed to see Pete and Helen today to provide them with an update of their daughter's murder investigation. He felt sick about having to tell them that it had been temporarily suspended but they deserved the truth and they deserved to hear it from him.

His stiffening muscles demanded that he take himself for a light run and he returned to shower and shave before he headed out to the Barnes home. He was greeted with their usual warm hospitality and welcomed into their home. Tony was immediately aware of the silence and grief in a home he had always known to be filled with happiness, love and the laughter and endless chatter of a little girl named Becky.

Helen looked at Tony's eyes, red-rimmed from tiredness and immediately launched into mother hen mode. She spent the next thirty minutes in the kitchen preparing a healthy breakfast and nagging until he ate every bite.

Helen and Pete took the news of the suspended investigation much better than Tony had anticipated and considerably calmer than he had. They tried valiantly to absolve him from any misplaced guilt he felt over Becky's death and the cold case classification.

"Tony, I have spent my entire adult life as a JAG Prosecutor, trying to ensure that criminals are brought to justice and answer for their crimes," Pete said quietly. "I realize, more than most, that things don't always turn out the way we want them to. What we can't fix, we must endure."

Helen left the living room and returned moments later with a small gift box for Tony. He opened it to find a lovely framed photo of himself with Becky and Brandy the puppy, taken just a few weeks ago on Becky's eighth birthday. It was almost Tony's undoing and made the news of the cold case allocation that much harder to bear. He silently reaffirmed his vow to find Becky's killer and make him pay for the devastating grief inflicted on these wonderful people.

After promising Helen that he'd take better care of himself and visit them again soon, Pete walked Tony to his car.

"Tony, I know we'd planned for you to spend Thanksgiving here with us but…Helen's folks have asked us to their home in Chicago," Pete said apologetically. "I'm sure you understand, the holiday season will be hard for us this year."

Tony had been so focused on solving the case that he had completely forgotten that Thanksgiving was just a few days away.

"Oh, hey…of course I understand. You and Helen need to focus on each other and do what _you_ need to do," Tony told him.

"Just promise me that you won't spend Thanksgiving at work - Helen will have your head if she finds out. She's been bragging for two years that she broke you of that habit."

Tony smiled fondly. "I'll do my best," he said as he shook Pete's hand and climbed back into his Mustang and guided his car down the long driveway.

'_Thanksgiving,'_ Tony scoffed, still raw with grief and anger._ 'How can I give thanks when Becky's killer is still free??'_

Tony headed back to the office and the accessibility of the NCIS computer network to put in a few more hours on Becky's case. As often happened when Tony got his teeth into something, a few hours turned into a few more and a few more and before he realized it was quite late and his weekend off was all but over. Leaning back in his chair, Tony thought back to the night in the warehouse. Why had he been spared? Ducky said it was because killing him was not part of the killer's very specific plan but Tony just knew there was more to it than that. He had to talk to Ducky - maybe that's where the next lead would come from. He swung his legs down from his desk and climbing to his feet, he headed for Autopsy.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

As Tony exited the elevator, he was immediately aware of a commotion in the usually serene and respectfully quiet Autopsy room. Upon hearing the raised voices, he turned in the direction of Ducky's office. TAD Assistant Medical Examiner, Billy Fenner was seated in a chair with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His face had lost all colour and he was breathing into a paper bag. Ducky and Jimmy Palmer were standing close by and Palmer had a chastened expression on his face. All three looked at Tony when he arrived at the door.

"Sorry Ducky," Tony said, realizing that he had interrupted something. "I can come back later."

"Nonsense Anthony, this shouldn't take too long," Ducky replied. "If you would be so kind as to wait, I'll be with you momentarily." He turned his attention back to Jimmy.

"Mr Palmer, did I or did I not ask you to show Mr Fenner how to clean the mortuary drawers," Ducky asked tersely.

"You did, Doctor," Jimmy replied tentatively.

"Did you _actually_ show him or did you give him the cleaning materials and point him in the general direction."

"I…er…I…may have forgotten to actually _show_ him, Doctor Mallard," Jimmy confessed.

"Yes, that's just as I suspected but I still fail to see how this happened!" Ducky said in a very exasperated manner.

Jimmy grimaced as he began his explanation. "Well, you see Doctor Mallard, I may have also forgotten to tell Billy about the extension handle we use to clean the back of the drawers and, well, he climbed in so that he could reach the back and the drawer closed. I swear I didn't hear him calling Doctor or I would have let him out immediately."

"Had you been assisting Mr Fenner and supervising his work as I asked, you would have been close enough to hear him calling for assistance well before the poor lad had chilled to the bone and hyperventilated."

"Yes, Doctor," Jimmy said with his eyes downcast.

"Yet, upon my return from the Director's office, I found you lounging in my chair with your feet on my desk while playing some ridiculous game on your cellular phone. You were totally oblivious to Mr Fenner's predicament!"

Ducky wearily drew a deep breath and softened his tone. "Mr Fenner is here to assist and to learn from us, Mr Palmer. He is not here to be at your beck and call or to do any task that you deem to be beneath you. Now, I expect you to drive the poor boy home, he'll benefit from a warm bath and a nice cup of hot cocoa."

"Yes, Doctor Mallard," Jimmy said. "I'm really very sorry, Doctor, you have my word this will never happen again."

"Yes, well, off you go, I'll see you both in the morning."

Jimmy looked at Billy Fenner still inhaling and exhaling into the paper bag. "Come on, Probie...er...Billy."

As the two young men exited Ducky's office, Tony exchanged a sympathetic smile with Jimmy.

"Cell phone game?" Tony whispered.

Jimmy nodded. "Tetris. Made it to level 8."

"Impressive."

"You?" Jimmy asked.

"Level 22"

"Cool!" Jimmy exclaimed with obvious admiration.

"Mr Palmer!" Ducky scolded.

"Um…er…sorry Doctor. Bye Tony," Jimmy said and hastily directed Billy Fenner towards the elevator.

"I'm terribly sorry you had to witness that ruckus, Anthony. I don't know what has got into Mr Palmer recently. Perhaps, like all of us, he is in need of a little R & R," Ducky said. "Speaking of R & R, I was under the impression that Jethro had given you the weekend off."

"He did, Ducky but I needed to re-check some reports and I wanted to talk to you."

"Then talk we will," Ducky said. "You're still looking a trifle piqued, my boy. Why don't you sit down here and I'll make us a nice spot of tea?"

Tony opened his mouth to decline when Ducky added. "No sedatives this time – you have my word."

Ducky returned with a tray and poured their tea from a delicate looking china teapot and they drank in silence for a few moments.

"Now young man, how can I be of assistance?"

Tony didn't answer right away as he was still trying to organise his thoughts. He lifted his eyes from his teacup to meet the intense but gentle gaze of the elderly medic.

"Ducky, you told me when Becky died, that you believed I wasn't killed because I wasn't a part of the killer's plan."

"Yes, I believe that to be the case, my boy," Ducky said. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't get it. We've seen all kinds of murders Ducky, from crimes of passion to serial killers. Usually when a killer is surprised or caught at the scene, they panic, lash out at anyone and everyone. He could have killed me but he didn't. I've never seen that kind of obsessive single-minded purpose before – not even from paid assassins. Do you think that the killer could have had a serious pathological or psychological problem? Aside from the obvious I mean."

"Perhaps," Ducky said after a moment of thought, "but he has also proven himself to be extremely intelligent, extraordinarily so. Although at times, the line between genius and insanity can be rather obscure. In fact, I remember a Professor I had at Eton. In the classrooms or lecture halls, he was easily the most brilliant and knowledgeable man I had ever met, but in the privacy of his own home, he believed he was a canine…a British Bulldog if I'm not mistaken…even barked at the door whenever the doorbell rang. The Provost and Fellows at Eton turned a blind eye for years because he wasn't harming anyone and his academia prowess was renowned throughout the United Kingdom. Sadly, they found him dead in his home after he had choked on a piece of dried doggie chow."

"That's…very…disturbing," Tony grimaced, "but what about this guy Ducky, could he have been receiving treatment for a mental disorder?"

"Well it's possible but a disorder of that magnitude would generally be treated with a range of antipsychotic drugs. All of which would appear on any tox screen. I thought the tests Abigail did on the killers hair samples were negative to drugs?"

"Actually, Abby said that the hair sample showed a history of approximately 90 days and that the tests showed traces of drugs but the traces were too small to be properly identified by her equipment," Tony answered. "What if the killer went off his meds over 90 days ago? Could that explain his behaviour and the negative tox screen?"

"Yes, yes my boy, you might be on to something there," Ducky said encouragingly. "You should speak with Abigail when she arrives for work in the morning. I'm sure she would know someone in the microbiology field with the equipment to do a more thorough analysis."

"In the meantime I'll send a BOLO to local psychiatrists and mental health facilities," Tony said. "There can't be too many patients with extensive medical or forensic backgrounds." Tony finished the rest of his tea and stood up. "Thanks for your help, Ducky."

"But it's nearly 2200. Surely this can wait until the morning, Anthony, you really do need to rest."

"In the morning, we'll be back on rotation and investigating another case. If Becky's case is going to get solved any time soon, I'm going to have to do this on my own time."

"Jethro's not going to like that, young man," Ducky warned.

"He doesn't have to like it Ducky. As long as my other duties don't suffer, what I do on my own time is my business. Thanks for the tea."

Ducky shook his head sadly and watched him leave. "You're quite welcome, my dear boy!" he said softly.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: **

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N **The team are back on rotation and about to be assigned a new case. However, Tony is determined to continue his investigation into Becky's murder in his own time. This results in two investigations running simultaneously for the next couple of chapters. Hope it's not too confusing. Can Tony hold it together or will he start to come apart at the seams?

**Oo00oO**

Tony worked through another night sending BOLO's to all psychiatric clinics and mental health facilities in Virginia, Maryland, DC, Pennsylvania and Delaware and hoping to get lucky with a local facility. He requested they check their patient records and report any male patient, over 35 with greying hair and a medical or forensic background. If this failed, he would place a nationwide BOLO.

He went to the Records Dept and signed out another box of Commander Barnes' legal files that had not yet been reviewed. He prayed that by some miracle, the tangible connection he'd been looking for would leap from the pages but he could not find it. He placed the box under his desk so that he could continue to work on them whenever time allowed.

It was 0500 and Tony was well aware that Gibbs would be in early to reluctantly attend the dreaded team leaders meeting at 0600. He knew that Gibbs would be furious that he had not been resting at home as ordered and he was too damn tired to have that particular argument again. Tony switched off his computer, grabbed his backpack and headed down to the gym. He spent the next 45 minutes doing a light workout on the treadmill, then showered, shaved and changed his clothes. When he returned to the bullpen at 0620, Gibbs was already at the meeting and another confrontation had been avoided.

McGee strode into the bullpen at 0630 and sat at his desk. He was only mildly surprised to see Tony already working. After greeting Tony he switched on his computers in preparation for the day ahead. Tony glanced over at McGee several times, wanting to say something but having difficulty finding the words.

"Something wrong, Tony?" McGee asked.

"No Probie. Nothing's wrong," Tony answered looking uncharacteristically awkward.

The elevator sounded and heralded the arrival of Ziva. She looked refreshed and alert but as she walked past Tony's desk, she did a double take and a look of concern flashed fleetingly across her face.

"Tony," she said shaking her head, "only you could have a whole weekend off to rest and come back to work looking worse than when you left."

"Good morning to you too, Zee-vah," he replied.

She walked back to her own workstation and looked with surprise at the return of her airtight food containers, all washed and neatly stacked on her desk with a large box of her favourite Israeli sweets. She smiled shyly as Tony met her gaze and offered his "mysterious chef" a wordless thankyou.

"What happened to you?" she asked, "you look like something the bat dragged in. You were supposed to spend the weekend resting, yes?"

"Firstly Ziva, it's cat not bat, unless you happen to be Abby, in which case it's probably bat," McGee rambled. "And secondly….Tony did battle with a bottle of Ducky's best malt whisky. He fought above his weight and showed good technique but the whisky won - TKO - tenth round."

The senior field agent gave him a wan smile.

"Laugh it up, McChuckles," he said.

Tony walked closer to McGee's desk and leant in to speak in a quiet and awkward manner, causing Ziva to have to strain to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Ah…Probie…about the other night," he said.

"Don't worry about it, Tony," McGee said, letting him off the hook. "Like I said, you were there for me the night I shot Detective Benedict. I was just returning a favour."

"Yeah… but…er… I'm sure that favour didn't include cleaning up my puke or putting me to bed," Tony cringed.

"Um, Tony….I didn't clean up your puke _or_ put you to bed," McGee said. "You passed out on the couch, I threw a comforter over you and let myself out."

Tony laughed awkwardly. "Come on man, stop kidding around, I'm trying to say thank-you here!"

"Tony, I'm not kidding. It wasn't me."

"Well then, if it wasn't you…..who was it?"

A feeling of dread enveloped him even before McGee answered.

"Tony….Gibbs arrived just as I was leaving," McGee told him, barely disguising his grin. "Must've been him."

Tony's knees buckled underneath him and what little colour left in his face drained away. McGee stood and quickly manoeuvred Tony to a chair and handed him a bottle of water. Ziva couldn't contain herself.

"Gibbs cleaned up your puke and put you to bed?" she asked between fits of raucous laughter.

It was several minutes before Tony found his voice.

"I should have known," he said with a trembling voice, "the signs were all there."

"What do you mean, Tony? What signs?" McGee asked.

"When I got up the next morning, my TV was tuned to the DYI woodworking channel and I was all out of coffee… He's gonna kill me," he groaned and allowed his head to fall into his hands to avoid seeing the amused faces of his partners.

"Dead body," Gibbs announced loudly as he walked into the bullpen.

"We know, we're looking at him," McGee muttered seconds before he received a swift head slap.

"McGee, gas the truck. Ziva, let Ducky know we're headed for Great Falls Park. We'll meet him there," Gibbs directed.

He watched as Tony retrieved his weapon and backpack and shook his head at how pale and drawn he still looked.

"You okay?" he asked, eyes narrowed in an appraising manner.

"Sure, Boss," Tony replied with a forced smile and no eye contact. "I'll …er…get the gear," he added before he quickly headed for the stairs and avoided further conversation with his team leader.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—

The team made good time to Great Falls Park despite the early morning peak hour traffic and due in no small part to the fact that Gibbs was behind the wheel. Gibbs had glanced furtively at his senior field agent who was conspicuously quiet and spent the entire trip gazing out of the passenger side window. McGee and Ziva had both given up on their attempts to start a conversation and were very pleased when they arrived at their destination and they could escape the awkward silence.

A young couple had located the lifeless body of Lance Corporal Michael Benson when they followed a hiking trail to watch the sunrise at 0630. He had been shot twice, through the heart and both bullets had exited the body. The couple had shared the same camping area as the marine for the last two nights, although their interaction had been minimal.

The team quickly began their assigned tasks, looking for evidence, shooting and sketching and questioning the young couple. Ducky, Palmer and TAD Fenner arrived shortly after the team and commenced their preliminary examination of the body. Ducky had determined by the condition of the body, that Benson had been murdered at approx 1900 the previous evening. The bullets had travelled through the body, killing the Lance Corporal instantly before lodging in the trunk of a large elm tree. Tony removed the badly damaged bullets from the trunk and placed them in an evidence bag while Palmer and Fenner placed Benson's body in a body bag and then into the rear of the Coroner's van for transportation to the morgue.

Two shots through the heart from a considerable distance told Tony one thing - military trained sniper. He scrutinized the mutilated remains of the bullets and although he couldn't be certain, he thought they looked like M118's, ammunition that was extensively used by the US military, including Marine Snipers. He calculated the angle of the trajectory and headed into the woods hoping to locate the snipers nest. He couldn't believe his luck when he found the 7.62mm shell casings and four cigarette butts on the ground approx 800 yards from where Lance Corporal Benson was killed.

'_If this guy is a Marine Sniper, he would know that the smell of cigarette smoke could give away his position. And why didn't he police his brass? Maybe he wants to be caught.' _He thought.

He placed the casings and cigarette butts into separate evidence bags and returned to the crime scene where his team was preparing to leave. He reported his findings to Gibbs who, with a succinct "Good job" agreed with Tony's statement that only a military trained sniper could be so deadly accurate from such a distance. The team returned to the office to gather as much information on Lance Corporal Benson as possible.

Tony prayed this case would be solved quickly so that he could return his attention to Becky's murder.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**DISCLAIMER: - I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

Tony purchased a Caff-Pow on his way to Abby's lab. He knew he was likely to incur the wrath of his Gothic friend for not returning her calls on the weekend, so with considerable trepidation he entered the lab and looked around the cavernous room.

Not seeing Abby, he started to walk towards the Ballistics Lab when Abby's voice rang out from behind her Gas Chromatogram.

"Freeze Mister!!" she ordered menacingly. "Hold it right there!"

Tony obliged and froze in place his hands raised in the air with a Caff-Pow in one and evidence bags in the other.

She climbed to her feet and walked purposefully across the room to stand directly in front of him. Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth a thin straight line and her hands were placed firmly on her hips giving more credence to the fact that she was far from happy with him.

"Look Abs, I know you were concerned about me but….."

"Concerned!" she said sharply. "Do you have the faintest idea of how worried we have all been about you, Anthony DiNozzo?"

Tony laughed nervously. "Come on Abs, so I got a little drunk, it's no big deal?"

"No big deal?" she repeated incredulously as she began to pace in front of him and gesticulate wildly with her hands. "During the last few weeks, you have been badly injured and refused to take care of yourself. You haven't been eating or sleeping properly, you've been getting into fights and placing yourself in dangerous situations. You've rejected all offers of help from your friends and screamed at us for trying to save you from yourself. You stormed out of here on Friday angrier than anyone had ever seen you, then you drink yourself into a stupor and you don't return any of the one trillion phone messages I left for you. I happen to think that's a pretty big deal!"

"Well,…yeah… it sounds bad when you say it like that…"

Abby immediately pulled him into a bone-crushing hug completely taking Tony by surprise.

"So….you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, I'm still plenty mad at you…. but I still love you, too."

"Thanks Abs," he whispered.

"Promise you'll call me if you want to talk?"

"I promise."

"Cross your heart?" she asked while crossing her own heart.

"Cross my heart," he smiled and rolled his eyes as he repeated the gesture.

"Scout's Honour?" she asked while executing the scout salute.

"Scout's honour," he sighed loudly but mimicked her salute.

"Pinky swear?"

"Okay, okay, you win, I pinky swear, too!" Tony said in mock frustration while linking his pinky with Abby's.

Abby looked disappointed. "I was just getting to the blood oath." she replied with a pout before pouncing on the Caff-Pow and noticing the evidence bag. "So, what did you bring me?"

"Shell casings from the Benson murder and a few cigarette butts found near the sniper's nest," Tony said holding up the evidence bags. "Need you to see if you can get a match."

"No problem," Abby said. "I'll have Prue run them as soon as she's finished with testing a gun for a murder case that Balboa's team is working on."

Tony turned to look at the TAD forensic scientist in the ballistics lab. His mouth dropped opened slightly and he choked back a laugh as he noticed her attire. Gone were the white lab coat, severe hairstyle, slacks and sensible shoes. Replaced by ponytails, three-inch high stilettos, mini skirt and Grateful Dead t-shirt.

"Don't look now Abs, but I think you've been cloned!"

Abby smiled back at him. "Doesn't she look cute?" she asked. "A few more days and I'll have her looking like a real forensic scientist."

"So you two are getting along?"

"Totally!" Abby enthused. "She's the best TAD assistant I've ever had! She's smart and she's funny, we have the same taste in music and as far as I know, she hasn't done a single thing that would result in your being charged with murder."

"That's…good to know," he replied then his eyes dropped to the floor as he added. "Abs, I know you're still mad at me but I need to ask you a favour."

"Ask away!" she replied cheerfully.

"I need to have the hair found at Becky and Christina Cortez' crime scenes examined further. I need to know the exact break down of the chemical traces you found."

Abby looked at her friend with concern and noted how his demeanour had drastically changed the moment he mentioned the Barnes case.

"Oh Tony, I told you, we just don't have the equipment here to deal with chemicals at the nanogram level. Why do you need it? Is it to confirm a lead?"

"No, I was hoping it would _produce_ a lead!" Tony told her. "I'm getting nowhere with the files and now that we're back on rotation I hardly have any time to keep investigating." He took a calming breath as his frustration began to bubble to the surface again. "One viable lead Abby, that's all I need to have the case re-allocated back to us for further investigation. There must be someone you know who has access to the kind of equipment we need."

"I'm sorry Tony, you know I'd help you if I could but we need someone with access to an Infrared Micro Spectoscopy Unit and they cost, like, a hundred and fifty thousand dollars and it costs a lot of money to run every single test."

"I'll pay for the tests," Tony said, desperate to find a new lead. "You can charge the cost to my credit card."

"Last time I heard, these tests cost over two thousand dollars each."

"Like I said, you can charge the cost to McGee's credit card."

He leant forward and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks anyway, Abs," he said resignedly as he turned to walk out of the lab.

"Wait, Tony!" she called. "I just remembered someone who could help."

Tony rushed back to her side. "That's great! Who?"

"You remember my friend Leopold Linley who worked as a Microbiologist for Arndell Pharmaceuticals?" Abby asked.

"No."

"Yes you do," Abby insisted. "He's the one who, whenever you see him, you say who's that and I say that's my friend Leopold Linley who works as a Microbiologist for Arndell Pharmaceuticals!"

Tony just shrugged.

"Oh… well… Leopold resigned from Arndell Pharmaceuticals and now he's the leading Microbiologist for the DEA. They definitely have the equipment we need."

"Abs, that great. Can you ask him for me? Do you think he'd do it?" Tony asked with so much conviction and hope in his expressive green eyes that Abby found it impossible to deny him.

"Well, he does owe me…I kinda saved his life once."

"You saved his life?"

"Well…kinda. Last January, we went to this mad concert featuring the Screaming Zombies and Porcelain Bus Drivers and we were having this totally amazing time moshing and body surfing. Anyway, Leopold lost his footing in the mosh pit and would have been stomped like a grape had I not been able to get him to his feet and out of there." She looked at her friend with compassion. "I'll see what I can do but no promises, okay?"

"No promises, right," Tony nodded.

"We also have the problem of chain of evidence," Abby reminded him. "One of us will need to stay with the evidence at all times or it becomes inadmissible in court. I'm swamped here Tony, I don't think I'll be able to get away."

"If he agrees to do it, tell him I'll take the evidence there, myself. Doesn't matter what time, I'll be there."

"But what about Gibbs? I'm guessing he doesn't know about this," Abby said.

"Not… exactly and I'd prefer he didn't find out until I have something concrete."

"I'll cover for you as long as I can Tony, but he's Gibbs. If he pins me with those baby blues and does that Jedi mind trick on me, I'll blab – I can't help myself!"

"It'll be fine Abs," Tony said, rushing to get back to the bullpen before Gibbs came looking for him. "Let me know if Leopold agrees and thanks."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Further investigation by the team had revealed that Lance Corporal Benson was attached to Quantico as a Scout Sniper in their Reconnaissance Platoon. He had been on four days R & R and had advised several members of his unit that he was headed to Great Falls Park to clear his head after his long term relationship had broken-up.

By the afternoon's end Abby and her TAD assistant Prue, had confirmed Tony's suspicions that the cartridges were fired from a M-40A3 Marine Sniper rifle and the best news of all was that they had lifted a print from the discarded cartridges. After running the print through AFIS and thanks to a small run-in with the law before joining the Corp, Abby was able to match the print to a Master Gunnery Sergeant Geoffrey O'Donnell, Benson's platoon leader.

A call to Quantico confirmed that the Master Gunny was currently UA and while checking his personal and banking records, McGee had stumbled upon a joint banking account for Benson and O'Donnell. This led to speculation that their relationship may have been of the "Don't Ask Don't Tell" variety.

The team headed out to O'Donnell's apartment in Crestwood and found the Master Gunnery Sergeant in the bedroom with a bullet wound to the head and a hand written confession beside his body.

While the team processed the crime scene, Tony received a call from Abby advising that her friend, Leopold Linley had agreed to run further tests on the hair. However, Tony needed to deliver the hair by 2100 and the cost would be two and a half thousand dollars. Tony would have to write a cheque from his emergency savings account to cover the cost but if it produced a lead in Becky's case it would be well worth it.

He knew that he needed to return to the office as quickly as possible to give him time to sign out the evidence and take it to Leopold for analysis at the DEA office. He quickly finished photographing and sketching the crime scene and assisted Ziva with the measurements. He took the statement from the last of five neighbours McGee had been interviewing and even assisted a very surprised and grateful Palmer to transport the gurney to the Coroner's van.

"You look concerned, Jethro. Is there a problem with Anthony?" Ducky asked quietly when he noticed Gibbs watching his senior field agent closely.

"Nope, he seems fine," Gibbs replied. "Quiet by normal standards, hell, almost mute by DiNozzo's standards."

"Then you're worried about his work?" Ducky surmised.

"Nope. He's been focused, thorough, intuitive."

"Well then, my friend, I fail to see what's troubling you," Ducky told him.

"He's just not….DiNozzo, Ducky."

"Give him time, Jethro, give him time."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

They arrived back in the bullpen at 1930 and Tony rushed to his desk to see whether he'd received any hits on the BOLO's sent to local mental health facilities. There were no replies. Gibbs advised his team that all reports were be written up before they left tonight so that they would be available to accept a new case tomorrow and Tony started work on his immediately, very mindful of his appointment with Abby's friend Leopold at 2100.

His ringing phone interrupted his thoughts. He replaced the receiver after a minute and exhaled deeply.

"Problem DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"That was the MTAC Control Officer," Tony explained. "Lieutenant Cortez has requested a sat-link with me tomorrow at 0630. She'd like an update on her daughter's murder case. I need to find a way to tell her that the investigation has been suspended – again."

"You want me to take that call?" Gibbs offered.

"Thanks Boss but I can do it."

Ziva and McGee were stunned when Tony placed his completed report on Gibbs' desk in near record time. He waited apprehensively as Gibbs read the report and found it to be detailed and in order.

"Good job, Tony," he said. "Get outta here."

"Night Boss!" Tony said as he walked quickly back to his desk and gathered his things. He couldn't help a tiny grin when he noticed McGee and Ziva's open-mouthed expressions.

"Night Probie, Zee-vah!"

Gibbs' eyes narrowed and his famous gut churned as he watched Tony leave. For over two weeks he'd been dragging Tony out the door each night and suddenly he was the first to leave. He thought that Tony would want to stay in the bullpen to continue to review more of the Commander's files. He was up to something. Gibbs just hoped it wasn't something reckless or dangerous.

Tony took the elevator to the evidence locker and signed out the hair samples then he made his way across town to meet with Abby's friend Leopold at the DEA laboratory. Leopold took Tony into his office, described the procedure and wrote a receipt for Tony's cheque. It was likely to take three to four hours to process the hair samples. Tony would have liked nothing better than to put his head down and catch a few hours sleep in Leopold's office but due to the chain of evidence, he had to stay with the samples. He wearily dragged his laptop from his bag, inserted the memory stick McGee had given him and reviewed some more legal files. He said a silent prayer that the tests produced a lead and he settled in for another sleepless night.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

By the time the tests were completed and Tony was on his way back to the office it was 0130. Leopold had provided him with a detailed written report of the test results of the Infrared Micro Spectoscopy Unit. It may as well have been written in hieroglyphs for all the sense Tony could make of it.

Abby had told him that she'd be working through the night on a backlog of evidence and offered to decipher the test results for him. He parked his car and almost ran to the elevator, the promise of a new lead boosted his failing energy levels. He checked the hair samples back into the evidence locker before heading for Abby's Lab.

Abby quickly ran through the results stating that traces of Risperidone and Olanzapine had been identified in the hair samples, however, the amounts detected were so minute it was likely that the killer had ceased taking the drugs 4-5 months ago. She confirmed that the drugs were antipsychotic medications that were often very effective in treating certain symptoms of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and other serious psychoses.

"The new information about the medication and the killers background in medicine and forensics, should narrow the search," Tony said hopefully. "I need to update the BOLO's and send it nationwide. The Director won't re-open this case unless I get a hit on the BOLO."

He darted from the office and ran towards the elevator with renewed vigour.

Tony sent the updated BOLO nationwide and was disappointed not to receive an immediate response despite the ungodly hour. He groaned audibly when he checked his watch and saw that it was already 0230. There was too little time to go home to sleep and too much time to wait for his 0630 sat-link with Lieutenant Cortez. He tried to compose his thoughts and wondered how he could tell this grieving mother, that her daughter's murder investigation had been suspended for a second time. Tony had hated telling Pete and Helen but they had seemed more focused on their loss than on seeking retribution. Lieutenant Cortez was a Navy Officer serving on the front line. She was expecting justice and had every right to do so.

He grabbed a cup of coffee and worked his way through a few more files. As he finished reviewing another file he placed it on the ever-growing pile that toppled over and spilled the now cold coffee over his desk and the floor. Cursing under his breath he grabbed the tissues from his bottom draw and mopped up the mess on the desk. Stooping to mop up the floor under his desk something caught his attention to his right and he stilled in surprise. Located under McGee's desk was another box of the Commander's legal files. He in turn, looked under Ziva and Gibbs' desks and smiled as he realised that none of his teammates had given up on Becky's case.

He continued to work until 0500. Once again, he hit the gym's treadmill in lieu of his morning road run, showered, shaved and changed his clothes before returning to the bullpen at 0600. He was surprised to find Gibbs waiting for him.

"Boss, I thought you had a team leader's meeting this morning."

"I do but I thought I'd ask you again if you wanted me to take the sat-link with Lieutenant Cortez?" Gibbs replied.

Tony shook his head. "Thanks for asking, but I've got it, Boss."

With a nod of his head, Gibbs took the stairs two at a time and disappeared into the conference room.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

As he stood before the large plasma screen in MTAC, Tony had prepared himself for an onslaught of angry, frustrated words from a grief-stricken mother who was half a world away fighting for her country. He did not expect the resigned, understanding and the almost apologetic smile as Lieutenant Cortez shed a mother's tears when she learned that for the second time, the investigation had been suspended.

"Lieutenant, the little girl who we believe was killed by the same man as Christina, was very special to me," Tony told her. "I'm telling you this so that you know how totally committed I am to finding this man and seeing justice done for Becky and for Christina."

Embarrassed by her lack of control, she brushed away her errant tears and smiled at him again.

"Please excuse me, Agent DiNozzo, it's been a dreadful year. I lost my father to cancer in February and now Christina."

"I wasn't aware of your father's passing. Please accept my condolences."

"Dad was our rock when my husband left us. He moved us in to his home and he adored Christina. With her Marine Biology degree behind her, she had just been accepted into the Navy as an Ensign," the Lieutenant said. "Dad would have been so proud that Christina was to be the third generation of Navy Officers in our family."

"I'm sorry…the third generation?"

"Yes, my father was Captain William Vega. He retired from active service 8 years ago. I gave all of his details to the first Agent I spoke with, Agent Sommers?"

"Of course," Tony said getting the signal from the MTAC officer that they were about to lose the satellite. "Lieutenant, I give you my word that I will contact you with another update soon."

"Thank you, Agent DiNozzo."

The large plasma faded to black and Tony reefed the headset from his head and threw it across the room.

"_**Dammit!" **_he roared leaving half a dozen startled MTAC techs in his wake.

Tony descended the stairs at near break-neck speed ignoring the angry growls of an Agent he nearly sent sprawling. Striding back into the bullpen Ziva and McGee looked up in surprise as Tony bellowed. _**"Where's Sommers?"**_

"Agent Sommers?" McGee asked.

"Yes, McGee, Agent Sommers, _where the hell is he?"_

"Markinson's team got called to a murder scene. They'll be out for a while," McGee replied.

"_**Son of a bitch!!" **_Tony hissed through tightly clenched teeth.

"Tony, what is wrong?" Ziva asked, concerned for her partner.

"I just spoke to Lieutenant Cortez. She told me her father was retired Navy Captain William Vega. She said she told Special Agent Sommers that when her daughter Christina was killed. Now that's something you'd expect to find in the file, _don't you think?_ A crucial piece of information? _Well, guess what?_ _**It's not in the freakin' file!**_ You know how I know? _**Because I've scrutinised every word of this file a thousand freakin' times!!" **_He picked up the Cortez file and slammed it back down onto his desk turning every head in the Operations Room.

Gibbs recognised the raised voice permeating the walls of the Conference Room and excused himself from the team leader's meeting. He arrived at the bullpen in time to hear Tony advise anyone in a two-block radius about the latest development.

"McGee, pull the service record for retired Captain William Vega," Gibbs ordered. "DiNozzo, settle down. If anyone's going to do any yelling around here, it'll be me."

McGee's fingers flashed over his keyboard and a moment later the service record and a photo of Captain William Vega appeared on the plasma screen and McGee read aloud from his own computer monitor.

"Captain William Vega, retired honourably in June 2000 after 30 years of distinguished service. Received many individual and unit commendations. Mainly commanded Wasp class amphibious assault ships, last posting was the USS Boxer. Captain Vega died February 8th 2008 after battling an aggressive form of bowel cancer."

"I want a list of everyone Vega had brought up on serious charges which resulted in a Disciplinary Board of Review at sea or had any JAG involvement," Gibbs stated.

"All of them Boss?" McGee asked. "In a 30 year career, that's likely to be a long list."

Gibbs turned sharply to face him and pinned McGee with a look that would freeze hell.

"Er…one long list coming up, Boss," McGee replied returning his attention to his keyboard.

"I'll go see the Director, see if we can get some time to work the lead," Gibbs said. "No promises, DiNozzo," he said as his senior field agent watched him hopefully.

"Right, Boss."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs walked back into the Conference Room where the team leader's meeting had just finished. The Director, who had noticed his conspicuous exit earlier, looked up and raised an eyebrow as he approached.

"Jethro, is there a problem I should know about?" she asked. "I thought I heard the dulcet tones of Agent DiNozzo. Hearing his raised voice is becoming a regular occurrence around here."

"Actually, Director, there's been a development in the Cortez/Barnes cases and we need to re-open it."

"What kind of development?"

"DiNozzo got a possible lead that was given to Sommers weeks ago. Sommers chose not to follow-up on it," Gibbs replied.

"Jethro, Agent Sommers is Markinson's Senior Field Agent. He's been with NCIS for years longer than Tony. I find it hard to believe that he'd ignore a viable lead in a murder case. Perhaps Tony is over-reacting, you know how upset he's been these last weeks."

"I'm not convinced, Jen," Gibbs said firmly. "He may have more experience than Tony but this is exactly the kind of thing that made me overlook him as my senior field agent when Stan Burley left."

"I can only give you another 24 hours. If you haven't got anything concrete by then, I'm afraid I'll have to allocate your team to another case."

"If this lead pans out like my gut tells me it will, this screw-up may have cost Rebecca Barnes her life and there won't be a hole deep enough for Sommers to crawl into."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Upon his return to the bullpen, Gibbs found Tony and Ziva standing beside McGee's desk.

"What have you got, McGee," he asked.

"The list you asked for, Boss, contains 271 names."

Gibbs did a quick double take. "What about the last 10 years of Vega's service?"

McGee typed the command into his computer. "The list reduces to 114 names."

"Damn it," Gibbs whispered. "Okay, split the list into four, that'll give us less than 30 names each to check. Let's get started, we only have 24 hours."

"Boss?" Tony asked with alarm.

"It's the best I could do DiNozzo. Get started."

They had been working on their respective lists for 45 minutes when Tony's desk phone rang. The urgent tone of his voice attracted the attention of his teammates and they watched his face flush with anticipation as he quickly scribbled down some information and ended the call. He sat stock-still for 10 seconds before Gibbs drew him from his reverie.

"Got something, DiNozzo?" he asked.

"I just got a hit on my BOLO." Tony said making his way to Gibbs' desk.

"What BOLO?"

"I put out a nationwide BOLO to all psychiatric clinics and mental health facilities, looking for a man being treated with Risperidone and Olanzapine for a serious psychosis. I added that we believed the man was over 35, greying hair, with a background in medicine or forensics and had been off his meds for 4-5 months."

"How did you know about the medications?" McGee asked.

"That doesn't matter right now," he said and turned to look at Gibbs. "Boss, that was the Chief Administrator of Fern Valley Psychiatric Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky. They had been treating a Gregory Niven for a serious psychosis for nearly two years. He left the facility AMA approximately four months ago. Before he was committed to the facility, he was a Professor at the University of Kentucky. He has a Doctorate in Forensic Science. They're faxing his medical records over now."

"Ziva, get the medical records to Ducky and ask him to do a psych profile on this guy ASAP. Then cross check the name with the lists we just compiled, see if there's a connection to Captain Vega." Gibbs instructed. "DiNozzo, go through the index of Commander Barnes' case files. See if they've cross paths before. McGee, see what else you can dig up on this guy."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs entered the lab with a large coffee in one hand and a Caff-Pow in the other.

"Hi Gibbs!" Abby said brightly. "What's up?"

"We've got a good lead in the Cortez/Barnes cases."

Abby's eyes widened in anticipation. "Tony got a hit on his BOLO?"

"How'd you know DiNozzo put out a BOLO?"

"Oops!"

"Damn right, oops!" Gibbs said. "He get the chemical break down of the medications from you, too?"

"No…yes…kinda," Abby said.

"What does no...yes...kinda mean, Abs?."

Abby took a deep breath and explained. "Well, my friend Leopold Linley…"

"He the Microbiologist who worked for Arndell Pharmaceuticals but now works for the DEA?"

"_Yes!!"_ Abby beamed, "Wow, Gibbs, you really _do_ listen to me!! Anyway, I arranged for Tony to take the hair samples to Leopold's office last night and he ran them through the Infrared Micro Spectrometry Unit which, by the way Gibbs, is a totally mad piece of equipment and we really, really ought to have one here. I'm sure we could pick one up for around a hundred and fifty grand."

"Take it out of petty cash and keep the receipt for Accounting," Gibbs said dryly. "Aren't those tests expensive, Abs?"

"Tony paid for them himself, Gibbs, he wrote a cheque for over two thousand dollars from his own savings."

"That's where he went last night?" Gibbs asked and Abby nodded her head in reply. "So he worked through another night?"

"_Please, please _don't be mad at him, Gibbs. He needs to find Becky's killer, he needs closure."

"Sleep is what he needs, Abs. He's out on his feet." He looked at the concern on her face and sought to reassure her. "I'm not mad at him, Abs, but no more extracurricular activity without telling me first, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Gibbs," Abby said sheepishly. "He's been so sad. I just wanted to help him."

He kissed her gently on the cheek. "We all do, Abs."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

The bullpen was a hive of activity as he walked back to his desk.

"Okay, where are we?" he asked.

"Ducky has the medical records for Gregory Niven. He will be right up," Ziva advised.

"There's no Gregory Niven on the list of Navy personnel who served under Captain Vega's command and the name does not appear on the index of Navy personnel prosecuted by Commander Barnes," Tony reported. "However, the name Ensign Louise Niven appears on both lists. Ziva's bringing up her service record now and I'm doing a background check."

"Good," Gibbs replied noticing Ducky's arrival and gesturing for him to take a seat. "McGee?"

"Gregory George Niven, aged 59. Served two tours of Nam as a medic. In 1974, his wife Rosalie was killed in a car accident. He raised their only daughter, Louise, alone and put himself through university. Has a Doctorate in Forensic Science and was a tenured Professor at the Uni of Kentucky until September 2006 when he suffered a complete mental breakdown." McGee picked up the remote for the plasma screen and clicked it twice. "This is a photo taken from the Uni of Kentucky Yearbook of 2005."

"Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Well without a warrant, the records sent by Niven's attending psychiatrist were sketchy at best. However, from what I can ascertain Niven is a highly intelligent man," Ducky remarked. "As I said to Anthony recently, the line between genius and insanity can be very fine indeed. I once knew a Professor at Eton….'

"Ah, Ducky," Tony interrupted. "Can we please skip the Professor Bulldog story?"

"Oh, quite right my boy…now where was I…oh yes, the medical records indicate that initially, he was placed in a secure ward for over 12 months as his doctors believed he was a danger to himself and others. He was transferred to the residential ward and left AMA four months ago. The fact that he was being treated with Risperidone and Olanzapine indicates that he is suffering from a severe psychosis but I cannot find any record of any previous mental health problems prior to September 2006."

"Is that an issue, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Oh it's not an issue, it's just very unusual for a psychotic break to occur so late in one's life unless it was triggered by a major psychological trauma. The brief details provided by the psychiatrist did not list any trauma or possible causes for his breakdown."

"Ducky, could someone in his condition be capable of these murders?" McGee asked.

"Oh yes, Timothy," Ducky replied gravely. "Without his medication, he would experience a loss of reality, delusions and even deep depression. But he would also experience periods of complete calm and lucidity enabling him to plan and perpetrate these unthinkable crimes."

"Ziva, what did you find in the daughter's service record?" Gibbs asked.

"Ensign Louise Niven was earmarked as a Naval officer with great potential. She served for 3 years as a Radar and Sonar specialist. However, in 1998 she faced a Disciplinary Board of Review charged with wilfully disobeying an order from a superior officer. She was found guilty and dishonourably discharged."

"What kind of order did she disobey?" McGee asked.

"It appears she had a relationship with an enlisted man, a Petty Officer who was assigned to the same ship." Ziva explained. "She was ordered by her superior, Lieutenant Commander Henry Pearce to end the relationship immediately. She did not and when they were caught together again, Ensign Niven was brought up on charges."

"That's all she did?" McGee asked incredulously. "Seems like an extreme punishment to me, I mean, it's not like she gave missile launch codes to the enemy!"

"Doesn't matter what kind of order she disobeyed, McGee." Gibbs explained. "All that mattered was that she wilfully disobeyed an order. The military take the chain of command seriously because lives depend on it. You don't get to pick and choose the orders you obey and those you don't."

"The Disciplinary Board of Review consisted of the two most senior officers on board, Captain William Vega and the Executive Officer, Commander David Smithers," Ziva continued. "According to SOPs, the case was automatically reviewed by the Navy-Marine Corps Court of Criminal Appeal when the ship returned to port at Norfolk. The JAG Prosecutor was….Commander Peter Barnes."

Tony slammed his fists onto his desk.

"_There's the link,"_ he growled through gritted teeth and ran his hands through his hair in frustratedly. _"It's been there the whole time! If it had been picked up when Markinson's team were assigned the case 6 weeks ago, Becky...Becky would still be alive!"_

The bullpen fell into an ominous silence as the agents contemplated the truth of Tony's statement.

Ducky's voice of reason cut through the tension. "This all happened in 1998 but it does not explain what happened to cause Niven's psychotic break two years ago."

"I've got something Ducky," Tony said, fighting to keep his voice even. "After her dishonourable discharge, Louise Niven struggled to find employment in her field of expertise. Apparently a DD from the Navy on your resume doesn't inspire the confidence of a prospective employer. She never recovered and developed an alcohol and drug addiction. Her body was found in a crack house in September 2006."

"That's when her father suffered the psychotic break. Yes, I'm afraid that all fits," Ducky stated. "The devastation and grief over the loss of his daughter could certainly have triggered the psychotic break. In his delusional state, he believes the Officers involved in his daughter's dismissal from the Navy to be directly responsible for her death. He is now seeking to rob them of their own daughters."

"McGee, do a background and service record search on Commander David Smithers and Lieutenant Commander Henry Pearce, the two other officers involved in the DD hearing. See if they have families, particularly any daughters. Do it now, they may be the next targets!" Gibbs ordered.

"On it, Boss."

The ding of the elevator heralded the return of Agent Markinson's team and Tony was on his feet and moving threateningly in their direction.

"_**DiNozzo!" **_Gibbs barked as he rounded his desk and moved to intercept him. Ziva and McGee hot on his heels.

Special Agent Max Sommers hadn't cleared the elevator door before Tony's hand clamped around his throat and pressed him firmly against the back wall.

"What the hell, DiNozzo?" Sommers choked out.

"_**You lazy, SOB!!"**_ he roared. _**"She told you about her father! All you had to do was check it out!"**_

Gibbs and McGee arrived and grabbed Tony from behind. "Let him go, Tony," Gibbs said in a low but formidable voice. "You hear me? _Let...him...go!"_

Tony released his grip but McGee and Gibbs continued to hold him by the biceps in case he changed his mind and decided to pound Sommers into the ground.

Lead Agent, Ed Markinson was stunned as he stood outside of the elevator watching his senior field agent being manhandled.

"What the hell's going on, Gibbs?" he demanded.

"Let's move this to one of the interview rooms," he said keeping a firm hold of Tony's arm as he led him down the corridor. He turned back to see the concerned faces of Ziva and McGee. "I want that information on Commander Smithers and Pearce's families by the time I get back. Niven is still out there and there may be more young girls in danger."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The two team leaders and their senior field agents proceeded to the nearest vacant interview room. Wanting to put some distance between Tony and Sommers, Gibbs gestured with his head for Tony to stand against the far wall while Sommers, Markinson and Gibbs took a seat at the table. Gibbs explained the major oversight that had allowed Gregory Niven to avoid apprehension. Sommers shifted uncomfortably under Tony's intense and furious gaze.

"You can't possibly think I did that on purpose?" he defended. "It was a mistake! No-one's infallible, not even you DiNozzo – we all heard how you blew a huge undercover op by screwing the daughter of that arms dealer."

Both Tony and Gibbs bristled at the taunt and Tony stepped dangerously into Sommers' personal space. In a barely audible voice, still raw with pain and loss, Tony replied.

"Your mistake, like your investigating, was sloppy and negligent and it cost a little girl her life. I hope you can find a way to forgive yourself, Sommers, I know I never will."

Slamming the door behind him, Tony left the interview room, keen to know what new information McGee and Ziva had found. Having already said his piece, Gibbs started to follow him.

"Come on, Jethro!" Markinson argued. "You know the work loads we've been carrying lately. You can't possibly blame Sommers for the death of that little girl."

"DiNozzo blames Sommers, Ed," Gibbs replied. "You're his team leader – I blame you."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Gibbs rejoined his team in the bullpen, his lips quirked in a bemused smile when he saw Abby draped around Tony, offering her comfort and support.

'_The Agency grapevine is alive and well,' h_e thought.

He made eye contact with Tony and raised his eyebrows, silently asking if he was okay. The younger man gave a barely noticeable nod of his head in reply.

"Gibbs, we have something!" Ziva said. "Lieutenant Commander Henry Pearce died from a massive heart attack in 2001. He never married and had no children. Commander David Smithers is currently working as a consultant at the Pentagon. He has one daughter, Joanna Smithers, age 22. She lives here in Washington but we could not reach her on her land line or on her mobile phone."

"I contacted Commander Smithers, Boss," McGee reported. "He said Joanna had just completed a major thesis and had wanted a break, so she drove herself to the family cabin on the river at Thompson's Corner. The cabin's quite remote and there's no phone or cell reception. Joanna is due back tomorrow in time for Thanksgiving."

"You know where this place is, McGee?"

"Already fed the co-ordinates into my PDA, Boss, and in case reception fails, I printed a map and packed the sat-phones."

With an approving nod, Gibbs ordered, "Okay, gear up. This may be a false alarm but at least we can put Joanna Smithers in protective custody until we find Niven."

Abby gave Tony a final squeeze. "Be careful." She whispered in his ear.

He returned her hug as he said in a quiet voice. "I've never broken a pinky promise."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

They took the sedan and with Gibbs behind the wheel, driving at his usual pace, McGee was expecting to hear the sonic boom at any moment. Hoping for the best but fearing the worst, Gibbs had asked Ducky and Palmer to follow them in the van to Thompson's Corner in case medical or coronial assistance was required.

Gibbs frowned as he glanced sideways at his passenger, noticing that Tony had repeatedly wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. The expression on his face was unreadable but fury and nervous tension radiated from every pore.

When the phone reception eventually failed and his PDA was rendered useless, McGee used a road map to direct them to the remote holiday cabin. They were only five hundred yards away from the gate to Commander Smithers' property when Ziva saw a car hidden off the road in the thick foliage and Gibbs brought the sedan to a screeching halt.

"The engine is still warm, Gibbs. The vehicle has not been here long," Ziva advised.

McGee called Abby on the sat-phone and confirmed the car had been reported stolen. They removed the keys from the ignition in case the driver doubled back.

There were two buildings on the property positioned approximately 200 yards apart. The first was a medium sized cottage and the second a large barn. Determined to keep Tony close, Gibbs signalled for McGee and Ziva to search the barn and he headed for the cottage with Tony.

The three-bedroom cottage was silent as Gibbs cautiously approached and peered carefully through the front windows. The front rooms were vacant but he noticed a chair and a lamp had been knocked over as if a struggle had taken place. After checking the back windows, Tony joined Gibbs on the front veranda and with their Sigs ready; they opened the front door and entered the cottage. Silently, they searched each room but found no one.

"Boss!" Tony's whispered voice came through Gibbs' earwig.

Gibbs turned to see Tony pointing to the only door they had not checked – it led to the cellar. They opened the door soundlessly, noting that the cellar was in darkness and unwilling to switch on the light and reveal their positions. They started down the stairs urging their eyes to quickly adjust to the darkness. Gibbs sensed Tony's body stiffen before he heard the barely audible gasp and in the dim light he noticed him staring at a seemingly lifeless form lying near the bottom of the stairs.

"It's happened again. We're too late," Tony whispered as his face paled in shock and disbelief. "He killed her."

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Gibbs was alert to movement from behind the staircase. As Niven emerged from the darkness and savagely swung a pick handle at them Gibbs only had time to push Tony out of the way before the lead agent was struck in the back of the head and fell heavily. The unexpected and powerful impact of Gibbs' palms hitting him flush in the chest, caught Tony completely off-guard and sent him crashing to the floor, knocking his weapon from his hand and out of reach.

As Tony moved quickly to regain his feet and to face their attacker, the sight of Gibbs lying stunned on the ground caught his attention. Niven took that opportunity to lunge at Tony with a knife and slashed his left bicep. Tony felt the warm, sticky blood running freely down his left arm and gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Why are you here?" Niven sobbed maniacally. "You'll ruin it. I have to do this. They took my daughter from me. I have to do this!"

After more than two weeks, the search for Becky's killer had driven Tony to the brink of despair, but now that he had found him, he was overwhelmed by the urge for revenge. He ignored the pain from his arm and allowed his fury to provide the strength he needed to launch himself at Niven. He grabbed for Niven's wrist with both of his hands desperately trying to wrench the knife from his grasp. Momentum carried them both across the cellar floor and they crashed heavily into the wall.

As his senses returned, Gibbs blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his vision. In the semi-darkness he could make out the shadow-like form of two men fighting and knew one of them was Tony. He heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones, followed by an agonised yell as Tony smashed Niven's wrist into the wall, causing him to drop the knife.

Gibbs attempted to get to his feet when he heard a soft moan from behind him. Joanna Smithers slowly moved her head from side to side and opened her eyes as she battled the effects of the chloroform. Gibbs spoke to her with a soft and calm voice and checked her for serious injuries. There were none apparent – they _had_ arrived in time to save her.

Despite the pain of a broken wrist Niven continued to fight. He wailed and moaned incoherently and landed a fierce blow to Tony's jaw that sent him sprawling to the floor again as Niven looked to escape up the stairs. Tony staggered to his feet and saw his weapon by his side. His fingers wrapped around the grip of his Sig as he surged forward to tackle Niven to the ground.

Gibbs' head pounded and he was still too dizzy to stand. More movement at the top of the stairs alerted him to Ziva and McGee's arrival and his head nearly came apart when they switched on the light. He ordered them to hold their position then Gibbs' heart stopped as he watched Tony stand over the fallen man, with his gun held menacingly in his trembling hand and pure hatred in his eyes.

"Tony, no!" Gibbs yelled then he quickly regained his countenance and spoke quietly and calmly. "Tony, listen to me. Put the gun down."

"No! He killed them Boss, they were innocent girls and he killed them."

The voice sounded so cold and hate-filled that Gibbs barely recognized it as Tony's.

Niven's eyes bulged at the sight of Tony's gun six inches from his face. He started to rock back and forth, whimpering pathetically to himself. As Tony fingered the trigger of his Sig, Gibbs forced his voice into a calm and gentle tone.

"Tony, you don't want to do this. Put the gun down and we'll talk about it."

"I was too late, Boss," Tony's voice was low, anxious and on the edge of self-control.

"I was too late to save Becky and I was too late to save Joanna."

"No..no, Tony, you weren't too late. Joanna is alive, we made it in time."

Tony chanced a quick look towards them and saw Joanna leaning heavily into Gibbs. Her eyes were filled with fear and confusion but she was alive.

"He killed Christina Cortez and he killed Becky," Tony hissed. "He killed them and left their parents devastated. Their lives will _never_ be the same."

The trembling of his hands became more violent and Gibbs feared that Tony may accidentally pull the sensitive trigger.

"You're right, their lives won't ever be the same, but you pull that trigger and you own life will change forever," Gibbs said. "Is that what you want? Is that what Pete and Helen would want for you?"

Time seemed to stand still as Tony considered the question. Finally, he ran a shaky hand through his hair as his resolve dissipated. A shuddering breath escaped him and he slowly lowered his weapon and slumped wearily against the wall, sliding to the floor when his weak and shaking legs could no longer support him. He was hit by a wave of nausea and breathed deeply until it passed, still trembling as his adrenalin levels rapidly dropped.

Gibbs eyes never left Tony's as he nodded his head to signal his reassurance and tried to slow his own rapidly beating heart. _'That was too close.' _He thought.

Breathing enormous sighs of relief, Ziva and McGee moved in quickly to secure Niven and assist Joanna up the stairs to Ducky.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Tony sat on the steps of the front veranda and stared vacantly into space. Ducky had fussed over him, placed a temporary bandage on his knife wound and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders to prevent shock from setting in. Tony had shrugged off the blanket the minute the ME was out of sight. He recognised the familiar sound of the approaching footsteps well before Gibbs sat on the opposite side of the steps.

"You should have let me kill him, Boss," Tony said, exhaustion stealing the bite from his words.

"You know I couldn't do that, Tony."

"He deserved to die for what he did."

"Maybe," Gibbs replied, "but you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him."

Tony couldn't stop the small breath of caustic laughter that escaped.

"I'm not some rookie, Gibbs, I've killed before. What makes you think I'd feel the slightest bit guilty about killing him?"

Gibbs tilted his head a little while he contemplated the answer.

"There's a huge difference between killing someone to save a life and killing someone to take a life. I know, I've been there."

The last thing Tony felt like hearing was a lecture but he allowed Gibbs to continue when he recognised the rare hollow timbre of Gibbs' voice and knew his words were both painful and personal.

"When I lost my family, I found the man responsible. I could have brought him in, I should have brought him in – but I didn't. As a Marine and a Federal Agent, I've followed orders and fought against injustice my whole life. I should have let the justice system deal with him."

Gibbs took a deep breath before continuing. "As a husband and a father, I was glad to kill him, even though the kill was too quick and too painless for what he'd done. It took a little time for me to realise that nothing I did to him was ever going to bring my wife and daughter back."

Tony remained silent listening to the emotion behind the words.

"I've lived with that conflict for a long time, Tony, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't second guess my decision. I stopped you from killing Niven because I didn't want you to live with same doubts."

He rose to his feet and ignored the popping sound from both knees.

"We're ready to go. We'll wait for you in the car."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

Ziva and McGee returned to the office to write their reports while, at the ME's insistence, both Tony and Gibbs found themselves in the suture room at the ER. Gibbs' legendary hard head had fortunately escaped another concussion despite needing five sutures. Tony's wound was painful but mainly superficial and the blood loss wasn't serious. The wound required 10 stitches and the dressing would need to be changed daily but it should heal fully in a couple of weeks.

McGee drove to the hospital to collect them and to check on Joanna Smithers who was being kept overnight for observation but was expected to make a full recovery. She was able to provide them with a statement although she really didn't remember much of anything after she was chloroformed and taken to the cellar. As a point of law, Joanna was able to provide a positive identification of Niven as her assailant.

They arrived back at the office to finalise the case. Gibbs went to the Interrogation Room to take Niven's statement. Having received the appropriate medical attention, Niven was now wearing a plaster cast on his right wrist and confessed to the murders of Christina Cortez, Rebecca Barnes and the attempted murder of Joanna Smithers before he began rambling nonsensically. The interview was ended when Niven's court appointed Defence Attorney arrived but Gibbs had already extracted what he needed.

Gibbs returned to the bullpen to find Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky and Palmer all chatting excitedly about their Thanksgiving plans.

"Someone call a stop work meeting?" Gibbs asked.

"The Director did," Ziva answered. "She sent an email with the revised holiday roster. Agent Balboa's team is on duty for the holiday and we have the weekend off."

Gibbs nodded his head in satisfaction knowing his team deserved a few days R & R then he noticed there was no sign of his senior field agent.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"He is in MTAC, Boss," McGee replied. "He wanted to speak with Lieutenant Cortez and Commander Barnes about the outcome of the case. They are trying to make contact with the USS Princeton now but it may take a while."

"Your reports are done, you can go," Gibbs said. " Enjoy the holiday. See you Monday."

"Yay!" Abby said, voicing the thoughts of the others. "Hey, shouldn't we wait for Tony?" she asked.

"I'm not sure that young Anthony is in any mood to give thanks and count his blessings," Ducky said. "Perhaps we should give the boy some space."

"Ducky's right. Go home and see your families. I need to see the Director then I'll wait for Tony," Gibbs told them.

"Okay," Abby agreed reluctantly, "but you give Tony a hug from us and tell him we'll be counting _him_ among our Thanksgiving blessings."

"I'll pass on your message Abs, but you can do the hugging when you see him," Gibbs replied.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The door to the Director's office opened without a preceding knock.

"You wanted to see me, Jen?" Gibbs asked entering the office and standing in front of her desk.

"Yes, Jethro, please take a seat." She gestured towards the large plush visitors chairs.

"Problem?"

"Perhaps," Jenny answered. "I've just spent the last 20 minutes with Andrew Mullens from the Public Defence Department, he is Gregory Niven's Defence Attorney. It appears Niven has made some claims against Special Agent DiNozzo."

"What kind of claims?"

"He claims that Tony tried to shoot him," the Director replied.

"Tony's one of our best marksmen, Jen. If he had shot at Niven, he wouldn't have missed."

"He didn't say Tony shot _at_ him Jethro, he said that Tony pointed his gun at his head and _threatened_ to shoot him," Jenny clarified.

Gibbs nodded. "He did. It's in my report."

Jenny stared wordlessly at Gibbs for a long moment before raising a sceptical eyebrow. He knew that Jenny had read between the lines and pieced together what had really happened. Gibbs' reports were usually meticulously detailed yet he had all but glossed over that particular incident.

"Why is it that despite the fact that the sign on my door says "Director" and there are _some_ people who believe that I'm pretty important around here, I get the feeling that I'm never going to find out exactly what happened in that cellar?" She asked with an exasperated tone and a tiny smile.

"Come on, Jen, the guy had murdered two girls and would have killed a third if we hadn't stopped him. He'd sliced Tony's arm open with a knife and had just used my head for batting practice. Of course he threatened to shoot him! He's damned lucky Tony showed the restraint he did."

'_Well… all of that was true – to a point._' Gibbs told himself.

Jenny knew there was more to this story than Gibbs would ever admit. It wasn't much of a leap for her to piece together what had really happened. She ran her hand over the case file on her desk.

"Joanna Smithers' statement says she has no memory of what happened in the cellar and I'm assuming that Ziva, McGee and Tony's reports will all agree with your assessment of the situation?"

"That's what happened, Jen," Gibbs defended.

"O-kay," she said. "Looks like it comes down to the word of a delusional killer, off his meds and clearly psychotic, against four highly competent and decorated federal agents. I can see no just cause for an internal investigation."

Gibbs nodded his head in approval.

"Oh, by the way Jethro, would you care to explain this reimbursement request for two and a half thousand dollars for a hair analysis test I did not authorise?"

"The results of that test were instrumental in solving the case, Jen. You think it's fair for Tony to be saddled with the cost? Tell SecNav to take it out of his dining and entertainment allowance. He could stand to lose a few pounds. "

"You should know that the Secretary of Defence has ordered an Independent Inquiry into the mishandling of information pertinent to the Cortez file and has overturned SecNav's cold case mandate effective immediately. Regardless of the outcome of the Inquiry, I have already advised Agents Markinson and Sommers that there will be some form of disciplinary action taken against them and the possibility of a transfer to another office. It's small consolation to Commander and Mrs Barnes, I know."

"Their incompetence and the pressure caused by SecNav's ridiculous mandate, cost a little girl her life and caused a lot of heartbreak, Jen."

Gibbs turned to leave the office and as he reached for the door handle, Jenny called his name and rounded her desk to stand with him.

"Jethro, I don't want to enforce this in an official capacity but, as a friend, make sure Tony speaks to someone," Jenny said. "I doubt he'd agree to see a psychologist, but he needs to talk about this or we may not be so lucky next time."

"I'll take care of it," he said.

As he opened the door to leave he stopped mid-stride and turned back to face her.

"How did the Secretary of Defence hear about this so quickly?" he asked.

Jenny's expression was one of pure innocence. "I really don't know. I'm sure my confidential email had nothing to do with this," she replied with a wide smile. "Sometimes kissing ass on the hill can be advantageous, Jethro."

Gibbs surprised her by leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving, Jen."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

With Pete and Helen Barnes out of town, Gibbs knew that Tony would not have made plans for the Thanksgiving holiday.

He decided to take Tony for a late supper and suggest that he speak with someone about events of the last three weeks, but by the time Gibbs had returned to the bullpen, Tony's backpack and gear was gone.

"Damn."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A/N **Well, at last, we've arrived at the final chapter. Thank you for the enormous support and encouragement I have received by way of reviews and PMs. Especially those of you who took the time to review every single chapter to provide me with your valuable feedback. I'm overwhelmed and very thankful, L

**Oo00oO**

The process of reaching Lieutenant Cortez aboard the USS Princeton had taken longer than Tony anticipated, so by the time he'd called Pete and Helen with the news of Niven's arrest and returned to his desk, it was after 2100, the bullpen was deserted and his team-mates had gone. Tony was somewhat relieved that he would not have to make small talk about a Thanksgiving he had no intention of celebrating. He gathered his things and left for home.

When he arrived at his apartment, he showered and changed into a faded OSU t-shirt and a favourite pair of old jeans with holes at both knees. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, selected his favourite jazz CD and then lay on the couch in the dim light, emotionally and physically spent.

He cursed silently when he heard a knock at his door as he was in no mood for company. He wanted to ignore it and pretend he had gone out but the sound of Miles Davis coming from his stereo was a strong indication that he was home. Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet and opened the door where Gibbs stood holding a pizza box.

"Boss?" Tony said, the surprise evident in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm moonlighting for Pizza Hut, DiNozzo, what do you think I'm doing here?"

Although the question was rhetorical, Tony appeared to be considering the answer until Gibbs brushed past him and placed the pizza on the coffee table.

"Figured you wouldn't have eaten yet," Gibbs said, and then he nodded his head towards the beer in Tony's hand. "You got another one of those?"

Tony grabbed a beer for Gibbs and they sat on the couch and each took a slice of pizza.

"I spoke to the Director tonight," Gibbs said. "Niven has accused you of threatening to shoot him."

"I did threaten to shoot him," Tony said quietly.

"That's what I told the Director."

Tony's head turned sharply in Gibbs' direction. "Is there going to be an inquiry?"

"No. Ziva, McGee and my reports confirm your account of what happened. It's the word of a psychotic killer against four federal agents."

"I didn't want anyone to lie for me, Boss," Tony said emphatically.

"No-one lied, Tony, every word in our reports was truthful," Gibbs said and then shrugged his shoulders. "We just didn't go into as much detail as we could have."

"And the Director bought that?" Tony asked.

"Officially, she backed us 100 percent."

"And unofficially?"

"There's no way in hell she bought that," Gibbs replied.

Tony sighed loudly and slumped against the back of the couch. "I screwed up, Boss! I let my personal feelings override my professional judgement every step of the way."

"You needed to catch this guy and you did everything you could to make it happen," Gibbs replied. "Whether it's jail or a high security ward in a mental institution, Niven will never hurt anyone else. In that regard, you did good, Tony."

Gibbs took another long draught from his beer before adding. "If you did anything wrong, it was trying to do this alone. You've got a team of people who badly wanted to help you through this and watch your six but you shut us all out."

Tony leant his head back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I nearly killed a man, Boss, I wanted to kill him and even now a big part of me wishes I had."

"You'll get through this, Tony, but you need to be clear in your own mind that the next time you're faced with a similar situation, you'll make the right choice. I think you should talk to someone."

"Like a _shrink_?" Tony asked. "You think I need a shrink, Boss?"

"I think now the case is finalised and Niven is locked up, there'll be some closure for you," Gibbs explained, carefully choosing his words. "But right now you're so filled with anger and grief that you came within a hair's breadth of killing a man in cold blood today. You need to talk to someone, Tony. If you won't talk to a shrink then find someone you _will_ talk to. Ducky, Abby, hell, you know my door's never locked, right?"

They both reached for another slice of pizza and ate in silence for a few moments.

"Did you, Boss? Find someone to talk to after…you know."

Gibbs nodded. "I talked to Mike. He handled the investigation and he knew what I did. Talking things through helped. Probably led me to becoming an agent."

"I wanna talk to you, Boss, but not now…I need some time."

Gibbs reached across and gave Tony's shoulder a quick squeeze.

"When you're ready, you know where to find me," he said getting to his feet and walking towards the door. "Thought you might wanna watch the game with me tomorrow. I'll throw your steak on the grill at 1400. With the price of meat today, you make me waste a steak, I'll kick your ass into next week."

Gibbs left the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Tony smiled to himself. _'Only Gibbs could make an invitation sound like a_ _threat."_

The door suddenly opened again.

"DiNozzo….you bring the beer." He left again without waiting for Tony to reply.

Tony knew the invitation was Gibbs way of ensuring that he didn't spend Thanksgiving alone, wallowing in misery or finishing the rest of Ducky's malt scotch. Not that Gibbs would ever admit to that, of course.

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The tension and grief of the last few weeks had left him feeling exhausted - craving sleep, yet reluctant to succumb to it in case the nightmares returned. For the next few hours, Tony lay on the couch in the silence of his apartment, and replayed the events of the past few weeks in his mind. His stomach lurched violently when he thought how close he'd come to pulling the trigger and killing Niven.

'_What if Gibbs hadn't been there? What would have happened? Would I have killed Niven?'_

Beyond exhaustion, he contemplated these questions until sleep finally took him. Disturbing dreams and images caused him to wake disoriented and breathless.

'_This is getting old,' _he thought.

He gave up trying to get back to sleep at about 0400 and went for a run to clear his head. It was still dark outside as he ran his familiar route, his breath visible in the frigid early morning air.

He busied himself for a few hours, cleaning his apartment and doing his laundry before getting into his car and stopping at a roadside flower vendor. He purchased a bouquet of daisies then drove to the cemetery and stood by Becky's grave. He put the daisies in a vase and placed it beside the newly erected headstone.

"We got him, Becks," he said quietly. "I miss you."

He went to three liquor stores before finding one that opened on the holiday and bought some beer before heading to Gibbs' house. The afternoon and evening went better than he expected – no talk about Thanksgiving, or the case or work or how he was feeling or whether he was sleeping. Just two men, eating steaks, watching the game, arguing about game plays and point spreads and having a few beers. Uncomplicated and relaxed – just how Tony needed things to be.

After the game, Gibbs walked to the fridge for more beer but by the time he'd returned Tony was asleep, head back and mouth slightly open. Gibbs looked with concern at Tony's pale complexion and the dark smudges under both eyes. He lowered the volume on the TV, rescued the half empty can of beer that was tilting precariously in Tony's lax fingers, and gently shook the younger man awake.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Tony's eyes sprung open and he sat up straight. "Sorry, Boss, must've dozed off," he said stretching the kinks out of his long limbs. "Thanks for the company but I better head off."

"Spare room's made up," Gibbs told him.

"Boss?"

Holding the beer can higher, Gibbs replied. "You're over the limit, Tony, and you can barely keep your eyes open. Take the spare room, I'll see you in the morning."

Far too tired to argue, Tony nodded his head, mumbled goodnight and disappeared into the spare room. Knowing that Gibbs was an early riser, he set the alarm clock on the bedside table to 0600.

-oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

The muted sounds of movement in the kitchen nudged Tony awake. He checked the time on the alarm clock and noticed that it had been unplugged. Tony grinned at Gibbs' subtle method of telling him to sleep in. He walked to the connecting bathroom and found that, while he slept, Gibbs had laid out fresh towels and lent him a clean shirt. He took a shower, got dressed and was about to join Gibbs in the kitchen when the door opened and a pair of bright eyes and ponytails greeted him.

"Yay! You're awake!" she said before wrapping him in a huge hug.

"Hey Abs," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll show you," she answered mischievously.

She took him by the hand and dragged him into the living room that was alive with activity.

"We're all here!" she announced.

Tony's eyes widened in surprise to see McGee and Palmer setting the dining table and Ducky and Ziva flitting around in the kitchen. The aromas emanating from the kitchen set Tony's stomach growling instantly. Gibbs entered the room from the basement carrying two extra dining chairs.

"Don't look at me," he said. "It was their idea."

"It is about time you woke up, Tony," Ziva called from the kitchen. "This is the first time I have cooked a Thanksgiving dinner. If you had slept any longer my turkey would have been ruined and I would be forced to use this carving knife on you instead."

"Dinner?" Tony frowned. "It may be dinner time in Tel Aviv, Zee-vah, but here it's only…1930? I slept 20 hours?"

"Like a log," Gibbs confirmed.

"We were beginning to wonder whether we'd have to come back tomorrow," McGee said.

"Your body obviously needed the rest, my boy," Ducky advised. "Timothy, if you'd be so kind as to get Anthony a drink, dinner will be served in a few moments time."

Tony was still a little shell-shocked as he took a seat on the couch next to Abby.

'_What was everyone doing here?'_ he thought. He knew they had all made plans for the holiday weekend.

Abby had invited Ziva to spend Thanksgiving with her family. She knew that although Ziva had been living in America for several years now, she had never experienced a traditional Thanksgiving holiday. Ziva gratefully accepted the kind invitation and Tony secretly wondered whether the words "Abby" and "traditional" had ever been used in the same sentence before.

Thanksgiving was big on the McGee family calendar and Tim always spent the day with his parents and his sister Sarah. They would enjoy a huge Thanksgiving lunch with all the trimmings, eat too much and spend the rest of the day playing chess, interactive computer games and watching their Star Trek box set DVD's while practising their Klingon – just your average McGee family Thanksgiving.

Jimmy and his mother had joined Ducky and Mrs Mallard for Thanksgiving lunch. Ducky was still apologising for Mrs Mallard thinking Jimmy was Leonard the houseboy and insisting he bring her drink after drink. The final humiliation for Ducky was when Mrs Mallard thought Mrs Palmer was Irene the housekeeper and made her do the dishes and turn down the beds before they went home. Both Palmers had been very good sports about the whole thing.

Ducky's cultured voice rang out. "Take your places everyone." He instructed as he carried the succulent looking turkey to the table and positioned it for Gibbs to carve. "Dinner is served."

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--

After dinner, they adjourned to the living room for coffee.

Ducky had changed the dressing on Tony's arm and stood steadfastly by his side until he'd taken his meds. Now, he and Gibbs sat together chatting quietly about sailboats, woodwork and old times.

McGee and Abby sat side by side on the floor while Abby chatted excitedly about helping her assistant Prue's choose her first tattoo and McGee bemoaned how much he ate and how much extra time he was going to have to put in at the gym to work it off.

Ziva and Palmer argued playfully over whom had won the wish from the turkey's wishbone. Palmer conceded victory and admitted defeat when Ziva reminded him that she could snap _him_ like a wishbone without mussing a hair.

Tony was quiet at dinner and his usually voracious appetite had still not returned. Somehow, it felt wrong to be here, chatting with his friends and pretending to smile at their well-intentioned jibes and jokes. As Tony sat on the couch his thoughts wandered to Pete and Helen. He wondered how they could ever rebuild and move on with their lives after losing their gorgeous little girl.

"You okay?" Gibbs said as he sat down beside him.

"Sure, Boss….I was just thinking."

"About Becky?"

"And Pete and Helen." Tony was quiet for a moment then he looked at Gibbs and asked. "How did you do it, Boss? How did you leave the grief behind and move on?"

"Didn't," Gibbs answered succinctly. "No-one who has ever lost a child ever leaves the grief behind, they carry it with them forever. But you surround yourselves with people you care about and people who care about you and you thank God that child was a part of your life and for every precious minute you spent with her."

He nodded his understanding and Gibbs slapped a hand on Tony's knee and returned to Ducky, smiling and listening intently to another of Ducky's stories.

Tony looked around the room and listened to the odd conversations going on around him. He still looked pale and even after 20 hours sleep, was still thoroughly exhausted but he started to relax for the first time in weeks. He knew that each of his friends had changed their plans at the last moment to help him through a difficult Thanksgiving holiday.

He quietly wondered how this group of vastly different personalities could feel so comfortable and so at ease in each other's company and he found a small grin as the thought suddenly occurred to him.

'_Maybe I have reason to celebrate Thanksgiving after all.'_

**THE END**

--oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo—oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--oo00oo--

**A/N **Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed my story. L


End file.
